Believe In Me
by emptyonideas
Summary: You're awfully mean to each other," Angela noted, looking at me and Paul. "It works for us," I said with a smile. Paul/OC
1. Chapter 1

Short prologue...same idea as the last Paul story, but different beginning. Any takers?

* * *

I usually ran because I wanted to get out of my house. My mother had remarried and had a baby, and as much as I loved my brother Brian, I could do without the crying at various long, uninterrupted intervals throughout the day.

Right now, I was also running to memorize the streets that I wouldn't be seeing for three months.

My mother's new husband Don and I got along just fine. He let me use the bathroom before him in the mornings, I put on coffee for him before work. We weren't close, but we had a good, semi-awkward yet polite relationship going.

And then they decided to go to New York for three months for Don's work. I worried how I'd manage being stuck with him and my mother in a place where I didn't know anybody. I was starting college in the Fall, and it didn't seem quite right that my Summer would end up this way.

So, my mother gave me one other option: to stay with my cousins in Forks.

Forks was the epitome of a small town. I knew it wouldn't be the most exciting Summer I'd ever had, but at least I'd be close enough to home, and I'd get to see Angela, who was my cousin turned one of my best friends since I was two years old.

And alright, I'd be missing my friends before they went away to school. And I didn't know anybody in Forks besides the Webers. And it'd be three months away from my mom and Brian.

But it was the only offer on the table. So I took it.

* * *

"I'm so glad you're here! Josh and Isaac wanted to come too, but I figured you'd appreciate a ride of rest, and not constant talking and fighting," Angela told me as we drove toward her house.

I laughed, knowing that her twin brothers could be a little too much to handle at one time.

"And it's a nice day. I don't want to brag, but I'm pretty sure it's because of me," I joked, looking out the window.

"I know! I'd almost forgotten what a blue sky looked like," Angela said with a smile.

"So thanks for driving to Seattle to pick me up. My mom left yesterday or else I would have made her do it," I said.

"Oh, it's no problem. Now I get to see you first!" Angela said.

I smiled. Angela was quite literally the nicest person I'd ever met. We share the same hair color and the same eyes, but she is ten times more selfless than I'd ever be. I had some sort of penchant for proving myself right…I think I inherited it from my father.

"How's Brian? I haven't seen him since he was born," Angela asked.

"Loud. All the time," I said with a shudder.

She laughed and gave me another grin before turning her attention to the now changing scenery.

"So this is La Push," Angela explained as we drove through a small town, with cliffs and deep blue water to our left.

"I _have _been here before," I reminded her, the landscape bringing up a dull reminder from my childhood.

"Not for four years!" she protested.

I laughed and she kept driving. It amazed me how clear the roads were here—I was used to much more crowded streets.

"We go to this beach sometimes, on rare days like today," Angela explained, pointing to the beach on our left.

"At night?" I asked.

"Yeah, we have a bonfire usually. It's pretty cool, we just hang out with each other. Sometimes these kids from La Push come too...they don't really mingle with us but…"

"But what?" I asked, looking at her curiously.

She didn't get to finish her sentence before there was a huge thud from outside, and then a few continuing flapping sounds. The car treaded oddly as Angela slowed the car to a stop. We both got out anxiously and looked around the perimeter of the car.

"Flat," Angela said sadly, kicking the useless right tire.

"You must've run over something," I said, biting my lip.

We stared at it for a few moments, as if expecting something to happen.

"You wouldn't happen to know how to change one?" I asked, looking at her hopefully.

"No...do you?" she asked.

"My dad always said he'd teach me, but he never really got around to it," I said dully.

"Does your cell phone have reception?" she asked, pulling hers out of her pocket.

I dug mine from my jacket and looked down at the screen.

No bars.

"No luck," I said, shaking my head.

We stood by the car for a few moments, both thinking of what to do. No cars could be heard rattling from either direction, but there were some noises from the woods that were putting me on edge.

"Maybe it's a hunter who will magically appear and help us," Angela suggested as she saw me eyeing the trees.

"Or a bear that will magically appear and eat us," I said sarcastically.

She shoved my shoulder lightly and I smirked, but edged a little farther from the woods anyway.

"I guess we'll have to walk somewhere," I suggested.

"We are near some houses, I think…maybe someone could help us," Angela said.

I shrugged, zippering my jacket. Angela took the keys and locked the doors, pushing her glasses up her nose before reaching for my arm.

"So much for me bringing good luck," I mumbled.


	2. Chapter 2

This will get better, promise! Anybody out there?

* * *

The first house we saw had a crumbling stoop and a tree nearly falling down on top of it. After a few tentative knocks at the door, we realized that nobody was home so we had to move on.

House number two was in much better shape, but the old man that lived there was almost deaf and couldn't understand what the hell we were asking.

The conversation went sort of like this:

Me: Hello sir, do you happen to have a phone we could use?

Man: Huh?

Me: A phone?

Man: Excuse me?

Me: Phone. That device that magically connects you to people you're not with.

Man: I'm not sure what you mean.

Angela: Our car got a flat tire, we need some help.

Man: Sorry? My hearing's not what it used to be.

Me: That's obvious.

Angela: Kris!

Me: Shrugs.

Angela: Sorry sir, we'll leave you alone.

So, we moved on and came across the third home.

It was quaint and lit, which held promise in our search. Angela let out a hopeful sigh and gave me a smile as we walked up to the door.

"Don't be mean to this one," she warned, giving me a pointed look.

I gave her an exaggerated smile and she bumped my shoulder in response before the door of the house suddenly opened.

We both looked up quickly as two muscular darker skinned guys with short black hair walked out the door. They were talking heatedly to each other before they suddenly saw us standing in front of them and stopped short.

"Hello there," the younger, more gangly one said, flashing us a white smile. "How can we help you?"

Both of us sort of just stood there until we realized someone should be saying something.

"Our car broke," I offered stupidly.

"It didn't break, we just got a flat tire," Angela elaborated, her voice suddenly shyer.

"Do you have a phone we could use?" I finished.

"I'm sure Emily has the phone," the other boy said, his voice more subdued than the first boy.

"Do you have a spare tire?" the first boy asked, before we could answer.

"Yeah we're just both incredibly useless," I said with a small smile.

The younger boy laughed a little, and began to walk toward us, the other one following him.

"I'm Seth," he said, outstretching his hand.

"Kris," I said, shaking it. To my surprise, it was extremely hot. I figured we'd gotten colder than I thought on the walk here.

"Angela," she replied, shaking his hand after me.

"And that's Embry," Seth said, pointing his thumb backward to the boy behind him who smiled sheepishly.

We stood silently for a few moments. I hate awkward silence and was about to think of something stupid to say when there was a sudden rustle in the trees like we'd heard before. I subconsciously backed away while Embry and Seth seemed to share a look.

"So if you want, we can help you change the tire," Seth offered with a goofy grin.

"We couldn't ask you to do that," Angela said, shaking her head.

The rustle in the forest was growing louder and I watched with suspicion as Seth eyed the trees for a moment before turning his attention back to us.

"No big deal, we're bored anyway. Embry quick go call Paul and tell him to meet us there—I think he has a jack we can use," Seth instructed Embry.

"I want to practice my mechanical skills anyway!" Seth said brightly, already grabbing my elbow and pulling me away from the house.

I guess people in small towns were nice. It was an unfamiliar concept to me.

"Well, thank you," I muttered, slightly awed.

In Seattle, I always suspected people were up to something, but Seth seemed like a genuinely nice person.

Embry emerged from the house a few moments later and followed Seth, not saying much, and Ang fell into step beside me. I shared a small raised eyebrow with her, but she merely shrugged and smiled.

"So, you're from Forks right?" Seth asked her.

I started to tune out the conversation as Angela began to explain that he'd probably seen her at the beach before. I kept my eye on the road that we'd just walked down, seeing that the sky was starting to darken. Of course.

"You're not from Forks right?"

I turned to see that Embry had began to walk next to me. I realized now that he only had on cut-off shorts and a flimsy T-shirt. I pulled my sweatshirt closer to me and wondered how the hell he wasn't freezing.

"Nope, Seattle," I responded.

"What brings you here?" he asked curiously.

"Long story. Basically business trip gone wrong that I didn't want to be a part of," I explained.

Embry gave me a small smile, nodding his head. I guess he was the quiet one, but I liked him. I found quiet people easy to talk to.

"So Paul? Who's that?" I asked, wondering who'd actually be bringing us the tools and how he'd even know where to find us.

"He's our friend. I'll warn you now that he's not the nicest all the time. Especially since I woke him up," Embry said.

"Noted," I said, winking.

Embry nodded and I noticed that the car was already coming into view. I heard Seth ask Ang if that was ours and fought the urge to say 'obviously' because he was a sweet kid.

I was really working on becoming a less sarcastic person. Or my mom was and I was trying to heed her advice.

As soon as we came up beside the car, I heard the distinct sound of another one coming down the road. I looked up as the wind blew my hair in all different directions.

"You can get inside the car if you want to," Seth told me.

"It looks like rain. And it's windy for June," Embry added.

"Says the boys who are in T-shirts," I muttered.

Somehow, they both heard me and chuckled as they opened the door.

"Just go in," Seth said.

I didn't like being told what to do, so was about to protest, but Ang grabbed my arm and pulled me inside before I had the chance to. Seth smiled once before closing the door.

It was much warmer in here, protected from the wind. I noticed that a car had pulled up alongside us and another boy had emerged, with a scowl on his face from what I could see.

Must be Paul.

His hair and skin was the same as Embry and Seth, but he was definitely bigger than both of them. He was holding something in his hand which I decided was a jack and had squatted on the ground before I even got a good look at him.

"Lucky we found the three helpful, possibly on steroid, boys," I said to Angela.

She snorted.

"They're the ones from La Push I was talking about before. They're usually sort of...isolated from us. I wonder why they were so eager to help," she said in her soft, almost accusatory but not really tone.

"Who knows? Our good looks?" I suggested sarcastically.

Angela shook her head good-heartedly, probably already sick of me even though I'd only been with her for a few hours.

I heard grumbling from outside and saw Seth laughing at something, looking down to where Paul and Embry must have been crouched. I felt the car shaking a little and hoped they were doing something productive.

The door suddenly opened and a gust of air hit me as we turned to see Seth giving us an apologetic look.

"Can you get the spare?" he asked.

"I'll get it, I think I brought the bad luck," I said to Ang, hopping from the car as she handed me the keys.

I walked around the two boys on the ground and to the trunk.

"Where's the spare?" a gruff voice, presumably Paul's, asked.

"She's getting it," Seth responded.

"Oh, princess got out of the car," I heard him mumble.

I frowned. I did _not_ ask to go into the car, they made me.

"Shut up, she can hear you," Embry hissed.

"I don't care," I heard him respond.

The wind hit us again and my hair flew in all different directions. I blew it out of my mouth and forcefully took out the tire and nearly threw it on the ground. Paul nearly growled in response and bent up to look at me angrily.

Or, I thought it would be angrily.

It started off as a glare, which quickly peeled off to a more...astonished look. His jaw sort of just went slack and I wondered if he was having some sort of mental problem. Of course, he had to be handsome. Why were the mean ones always gorgeous? I tried to ignore the weird twist in my stomach and instead focus on the fact that he was extremely rude.

I brushed back my hair and broke eye contact, wondering why the hell I was feeling so weird all of a sudden.

"Wind-swept not my look?" I asked sarcastically, trying to break the tension.

Seth and Embry were however, not listening to me, but having a sort of 'eye' conversation. I shook my head.

Weird bunch of guys, I'll tell you that.

I looked momentarily back at Paul, who was still staring at me.

"Are you alright?" I asked slowly.

"I...have to go," he said, jumping up and nearly running to his car. I watched in shock as he revved his engine and sped away, leaving a gust of dust behind him.

"What...was that?" I asked, looking at Seth.

His mouth was opening and closing, accompanied by no words whatsoever. Embry seemed to fare better, and actually said something coherent.

"He's just mad at us. Um...we'll finish your tire, don't worry."

I shook my head and got back into the car.

People in small towns might be nice, but they sure were weird.


	3. Chapter 3

Thanks so much to everyone who's reading this! And giving feedback. ;)

* * *

The next morning, Angela and I sat on her bed when I heard my cell phone buzzing. Ang left the room with a smile and told me to take it when I saw 'Lily' flash across the screen.

"Hey best friend," her strikingly loud voice rang through the phone.

"Hey loser," I responded.

"So how was day one?" she asked, not bothering to address my insult.

"Weird," I said simply.

"Better than boring," she pointed out.

"True," I said.

"Meet anyone new?"

My mind instantly flashed back to the La Push incident. It was...memorable, to say the least.

"Yeah, sort of," I said.

"Now I remember why I hate talking to you on the phone," Lily chuckled, "you're not the best conversationalist."

"It's been a long day," I excused.

"Well it's be worse for me! Now I'm stuck without a friend the whole Summer, and you're partying up with Angela in Forks," she whined.

"For starters, you have plenty of friends, so don't give me that. And I'll be back in three months," I protested.

"Whatever, just ignore my pain," she said, being the ever dramatic one.

"Kris! Breakfast!" I heard Ang call from downstairs.

"I have to go. But I'll call you tomorrow okay?"

"Fine just leave me," she said, but I could picture the smile on her face. "I expect more details next time!"

"Bye weirdo," I said, chuckling slightly as I shut my phone.

I walked downstairs and sat next to Ang at the kitchen table, my aunt Mary serving us pancakes. Let's just say my aunt didn't...appreciate my personality very much. I got a lot of looks that could kill from her, so lately, I've just tried to keep my mouth shut.

"Morning," I greeted my cousins and uncle, who all nodded in response.

"Good morning Kris. How's the air mattress?" my uncle asked.

"Comfortable," I said with a smile.

My uncle, unlike my aunt, was always nice to me. He reminded me of Angela, actually.

"Good. Now have some pancakes," he said, passing me the syrup.

I smiled and took it, dousing mine with syrup.

"Save some for the rest of us," my aunt snipped.

I stopped pouring and handed the bottle to Ang who gave me an apologetic look before putting them on her own pancakes.

"So what are you girls up to today?" my uncle asked, breaking the tension.

"I'm not sure yet. I'm probably going to bore Kris to death," Angela said.

"I doubt it," I said, shaking my head. It'd be better than watching my baby brother all day, at least.

"Josh and Isaac, do you want to come to the supermarket with me?" my aunt asked the twins.

"Sure!" Josh agreed.

"We need some cereal!" Isaac pointed out.

"Alright," Aunt Mary said.

"And pop-tarts," Josh added.

"And popcorn!" Isaac chimed.

I laughed at them, knowing this probably just sparked a whole new conversation.

"And chips!" Josh exclaimed.

"And cake!"

"And yogurt!"

"And cookies!"

And it was right about after "And pretzels!" that I tuned out.

* * *

"My mom hasn't even called me yet," I said with Angela with a frown. It was mid-afternoon now, and we were both sitting on her couch, trying to think of something to do.

"I'm sure she's busy in New York," Ang pointed out.

"Too busy to call your own flesh and blood," I muttered.

Ang gave me a sympathetic frown.

"How's Don? Are you guys close?" she asked.

I thought about my soft-spoken, slightly balding step-father, and shrugged.

"We get along just fine," I said.

She hesitated now, but I knew what she was thinking.

"So when do I get to meet your friends?" I asked before she could ask anything else.

"Soon! We'll go to the beach tomorrow if the weather is good. But it probably won't be, so maybe we can go to the diner or something," she said.

"Sounds good. I can't wait to meet Ben," I said, nudging her playfully.

She blushed lightly and nudged me back.

"You'll really like him though," she protested.

I nodded, about to open my mouth, when there was a sudden knock at the door.

"I'll get it!" I heard my aunt Mary call.

She crossed across the living room and went to the front door, which was to the back of us. We couldn't see who was there, but we heard muffled voices. Aunt Mary's, of course, sounded a little more cross than the other person's, who sounded like a man.

"Kristina," her sharp voice suddenly said.

I looked up to see my Aunt looking at me pointedly.

"You have a visitor," she said, hands on her hips.

A visitor? I didn't even know anybody here. I looked at Ang in question but she shrugged and curiously looked toward the door. I got off the couch and went around my brooding aunt to the front door.

I didn't expect to see the huge, crouching man in the doorway.

"Paul?" I asked confusedly.

He looked up upon my arrival as I opened the door and stepped a little father onto the porch, where he stood. He was wearing shorts, like yesterday, and a black shirt. He looked surprised for a second, but quickly masked it with a look of indifference.

"Kris, right?" he asked.

I nodded numbly, mind still reeling as to why he would be here.

"How's...it going?" he asked, looking as if it pained him to ask that.

"Fine?"

"Yeah, me too," he said, nodding.

"That's nice. Um..."

"Alright, let's cut to the chase," he interjected.

I stared at him in question.

"Do you want to go out with me tonight?"

Shocked was an understatement. This was more of 'what the hell is going on, is this guy crazy?' type of feeling. My stomach suddenly twisted and I looked at him with wide eyes.

His growing smirk was making me nervous.

"You want to go out with me? You didn't even know my name three seconds ago," I said, giving him a strange look.

"Seth told me, I was just making sure," he argued.

"Why would I want to go out with the guy who insulted me and bolted?" I asked with a raised eyebrow.

He looked shocked that I was so upfront, but then he played cool and inched forward.

"I know for a fact that you can't say no," he said smugly, smirking.

"Ok...**No**," I said blunty, "See? I _can_ do it!" I said, pointing to my mouth with a sarcastic smile.

Paul merely smirked again, shaking his head.

"Don't make me give you a reason to say yes," he warned.

I narrowed my eyes in suspicion.

"What could possibly be the reason?" I asked curiously.

He held my gaze for a moment, and I felt my courage slightly faltering, but tried not to show it.

"You're going to fall in love with me," he said simply.

The teasing suddenly haulted as I stared at him oddly. Figuring he had to be kidding, though, I ignored the abrupt halt of my heartbeat and quirked my head at him.

"Oh, really?" I asked incredulously.

"Yes, so really, you shouldn't make things harder than they already have to be," he said, smirk back on his face as he leaned casually against the doorframe. I was trying to ignore how incredibly goregous he was, because he was obviously already slightly too confident.

"You're a piece of work," I commented, as he grinned brightly.

"Is that a yes?" he asked.

"No."

"Great, I'll pick you up at seven," he said with his huge grin reappearing.

He disappeared without a backward glance, leaving me gaping in the doorway.


	4. Chapter 4

Thanks SO much to everyone who reviewed! Keep em coming. :)

* * *

"So let me get this straight," Angela said, pushing a piece of hair out of her eyes. "You're going on a date with the guy who bailed on helping us yesterday and sounds potentially violent... because he wouldn't take no for an answer?"

"Well it sounds stupid when you say it out loud," I said, shrugging my shoulders.

"He might be crazy, you know that?" she asked.

"Maybe we misjudged him?" I said with another shrug.

"Can you please bring your cell phone? I want to know you can contact me just in case."

"Yes mom," I said, rolling my eyes.

"Your mom called when you were outside, by the way," Angela said, pointing to the phone. "Said they were settled and you can call her anytime."

"I think I should take a shower first," I said, heading for the stairs. "Gotta look nice for my psychotic date," I said with a wink.

"Maybe I was wrong," Angela called after me.

"Why?" I asked, poking my head back in the room.

"Maybe you're _both_ crazy!" she said with a small smile.

I laughed and shook my head before turning around and walking up the stairs.

* * *

At 6:56, I wondered if Angela was right. This was completely crazy and weird, wasn't it? For some reason, though, I wasn't even thinking about how odd it was. I was just jittery and nervous instead.

I smoothed my blue shirt and put on a silver necklace that Angela let me borrow. I didn't know where we were going, so I couldn't really plan accordingly.

"Kris, Paul is here!" I heard Angela's voice ring from downstairs.

Guess there was no more time to worry.

"Coming!"

I walked down the stairs slowly, trying to remember that this was actually happening. I, who'd been in Forks two days and never had an actual boyfriend, was going on a date with a gorgeous stranger.

Huh.

"Cell phone?" Angela whispered to me.

I chuckled and patted the pocket of my pants, winking at her.

She smiled and nodded as I walked toward the door, where Paul was standing awkwardly. He looked ever huger inside the house. I was pretty sure he'd barely have to lift his arm to be able to reach the ceiling.

"Hey," Paul said gruffly, nodding as I appeared in view.

"Hi," I said, smiling slightly.

He looked as if he was forcibly reminding himself something, as an intense look crossed his face. He took a step toward me, opening the door, and letting me go out first.

"Thanks," I said softly.

Softly? When did I become shy? And when he did he lose the self-confident stride?

"My car's in the driveway," he said, pointing to the large truck.

I noticed he quickened his pace and opened my door for me. I fought the urge to smirk—I'm pretty sure he was only doing what he thought people should do on a first date.

After we both climbed into the car, I buckled my seatbelt and looked at him questioningly.

"So where are we going?" I asked.

"Dinner and a movie too cliché?" he asked.

"A little maybe," I said with a smile.

"I thought so. There's not much to do here," he said, almost angrily.

"How about dinner? And then we'll figure something out?" I asked.

He nodded in approval and pulled out of the driveway, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. I looked out of the window at the blurs of green passing by.

As we went to make a left hand turn, a car suddenly began backing out of the driveway, seemingly not seeing us. Paul swerved, beeping loudly. He muttered a lot of curses under his breath, and I noticed a tremor pass through his arm.

"No big deal," I said lightly.

He looked over, looking almost like he'd forgotten I was there.

A few moments of silence passed.

I hold the notion that some silence is perfectly fine. The air doesn't always have to be filled with noise, just for the sake of it.

This wasn't one of those 'perfectly fine' times.

…This was awkward.

Paul didn't seem to be the same person that was on the porch a few hours ago. He kept looking like he was about to say something, but then thought better, and closed his mouth. I was searching through my mind for something, anything to say, but couldn't find anything.

I bit my lip, turning my attention back out of the window. I guess I could start with the basics.

"So you live in La Push?" I asked.

"Yeah."

"Whole life?"

"Yup. Where are you from?"

"Seattle," I responded. "How old are you?"

"Seventeen."

"Wow, you could pass for much older," I muttered.

I was actually older than he was. Only a year, but it was still crazy—he could have easily been twenty-three and I wouldn't have been surprised.

"How old are you?" he asked.

"Eighteen."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Technically this is illegal," I said, pointing between us.

He smirked, but didn't say anything else. Maybe this was a bad idea. Our flow wasn't working out so well.

"Here's the diner," he announced.

We pulled up to a small place, with a neon sign. There were a few cars in the parking lot. Paul pulled next to a beat-up Honda and cut the engine. Before we got of the car, I put a hand on his arm.

"Cut the politeness," I said.

He looked surprised for a moment.

"Huh?"

"You don't have to be polite cause we're on a date. I saw from earlier that that's not really your style, and it's okay. I'm not really an open-the-car-door kind of girl anyway," I explained.

He stared at me for another moment, before his face broke out in a huge grin.

"I should have known you wouldn't be," he said, seemingly to himself.

I didn't ask him what that meant, but smiled and opened the door. We both exited and walked toward the diner. Paul walked in first, the door nearly slamming me in the face.

"You can hold _some_ doors," I said with a frown.

"Sorry," he said bashfully.

We sat down at a booth near the window, Paul sliding in the farther side. I sat across from him and realized that he looked pretty good. I'm sure it wasn't hard, but I could sincerely appreciate the muscles poking out from his gray shirt as he handed me a menu.

"So you don't want to go to the movies?" Paul asked, eyes scanning over the menu.

"I don't mind," I said.

"It might be crowded by the time we got there anyway," he excused.

"You know what I hate?" I asked.

"What?" he asked with a smile.

"When the theater is completely empty...and then somebody comes in and sits right in front of you."

"Right? It's social standards to sit at least an entire row away," he concluded.

"It's true, applicable to theaters and public transportation," I nodded.

"You know what else sucks?" he asked. "When people talk obnoxiously loud, and ask questions the whole movie."

"Or when people's huge heads block the screen," I pointed out.

"Or when people's kids cry or talk during the movie and the parents let them," he added.

"It's the _worst _when parents put their kids on leashes," I shuddered.

"Or dress up their dogs like kids," Paul countered.

"In my day, kids could roam as far as they want. And dogs didn't have people clothes," I said solemnly.

"In your day? How old are you, eighty?" he asked with a laugh.

"Older than you," I said, sticking out my tongue.

"A year," he pointed out.

"Still older."

"I'm basically a cougar," I said.

He looked at me for a moment before chuckling.

"You're not what I expected," he mused.

"Neither are you," I retorted.

"What'd you expect?"

"You're huge and menacing. And I've been warned about your temper."

"They told you I had a temper?" he asked sharply, glare suddenly glowering.

"There it is," I said, pointing to his eyes with a goofy smile.

He grabbed my hand and lowered it, his skin burning against mine. His glare turned to a different kind of directness, a smirk suddenly replacing his frown as I swallowed.

"Can I get you kids something to drink?"

I almost jumped at the voice of the waitress as Paul released my hand and turned to look at her. She tucked a piece of her auburn hair behind her ear as she got a notepad from her pocket.

"Coke please," he said smoothly.

"Me too," I added.

She nodded with a smile, probably noting my reddened cheeks. I turned away from her, focusing my eyes on Paul instead.

"So you never said what you thought about me," I reminded.

"You were sitting in the car, letting us do the work. I thought you were a girly-girl, probably high maintenance. And here you are, making fun of people with me," he explained.

"You think that's something, wait until you hear my rant on slutty girls," I said with a pointed look.

"A girl after my heart," he said, eyes brightening.

I grinned at him.

"So start to think of things you'd want to do afterward," he reminded.

We lapsed into a silence then, both concentrating.

And this one? Definitely not awkward.


	5. Chapter 5

_Thanks to everyone who gave feedback! :) _

* * *

As I crept into Angela's room, I realized my attempts to be quiet weren't necessary. She turned over in her bed to where I was crawling to my air mattress and poked her arm out to touch me.

"How was it?" she asked quietly.

"Good," I told her.

"What'd you guys do?"

"Dinner and ice cream," I said, patting my stomach subconsciously.

"Was he nice?"

"Not really," I said with a grin.

"That's not good," she said. I could practically hear the frown in her voice.

"It was weird, actually," I remarked. "We could be messing around with each other, but then the ice cream guy said something slightly rude and I thought Paul would throttle him."

"That is weird," Angela commented. "But you liked him?"

I thought of Paul, hunching in the doorway when he first came, to laughing in the diner, to helping me creep into the house so my aunt wouldn't wake up angrily.

"Yeah," I said with a small smile, "I did."

* * *

I hadn't intended on going on one date when I was here, and I already had another for Friday. Angela was the acting mother in my second life here, so I got my fair share of warning looks and advice giving. Ang would never pry into my business or tell me not to do something, but she was sure as hell going to remind me to be "careful" doing it.

And then of course I had to go and mention it to Lily, who expected every detail about the date down to the color of napkins in the ice cream parlor.

I also got an earful from my aunt about sneaking off with a guy that "must be twenty-seven years old". After I smugly told her she was off by ten years and he was completely harmless (in-an-I-can-kill-a-bear-but-I-wouldn't-touch-a-girl type of way) she only slightly backed off.

And then my mother found out somehow, because word spreads fast in my family, and I got a sweet chat with her too.

And this was all before our second date.

So I was ready to get out of that stifling house when Friday night rolled around.

I could hear Paul's car pull up and I practically shouted good-bye at Ang before I jerked open the door. Paul looked confused as he stood in the middle of the walkway, but I just gestured for him to return to his car with frantic arms. My aunt had hinted she wanted to "meet the giant _properly_" and I wasn't really in the mood to put him through that, especially since she'd probably be as nice to him as she was to me.

As we settled into the car Paul looked over at me curiously.

"Was there a reason we had to bolt away from the house?" he asked.

"Long story," I excused, not wanting to tell him most of the attention had been because of him.

"Okay," he laughed.

"So where to?" I asked.

"Well my mom's our tonight. She left me with a bunch of food so I can make some for us, and then we can watch a movie or something," he suggested.

"Sounds great," I said with a smile.

He kept driving past things I didn't recognize. I looked over slightly and saw him tapping a beat on the steering wheel and smiled. The constricting, tossing feeling in my stomach suddenly erupted full force. I had to remind myself that I had only technically seen this boy two times and I should really stop grinning widely at him before he noticed.

"What's your favorite movie?" Paul suddenly asked, turning toward me.

I hoped he hadn't noticed I was looking so I averted my eyes as if in concentration.

"I don't watch movies," I said with a straight face.

"I will kick you out of this car if that is a serious response," he said solemnly.

"Okay, I lied."

"Good. Now answer."

"So many," I said, tapping my head. "My dad sort of got me hooked on good sports movies—Rudy and Hoosiers...and then you've got funny ones, like Wayne's World and Ace Ventura. And of course you can't forget superhero movies. Superman, Spider-man, Batman…"

"So basically every movie ever invented?"

"Shut up," I said, making a face at him.

"Favorite type of music?"

"Classical."

"Can you not answer a question seriously the first time around?"

"Rock," I grinned.

"Favorite sport?"

"Baseball."

"Is that one true?"

"Yes," I said with a nod.

"Favorite game?"

"Not this one."

Paul mock glared at me.

"I'm just trying to get to know you."

"I'm not learning anything about you," I pointed out.

He smiled at me before we suddenly stopped moving. I looked over and saw a small house to our right, with the windows illuminated. Paul hopped from the car as I exited.

"You've got all night to learn," he said, pulling me toward the door.

* * *

"Maybe I should have ordered food," Paul said, prodding the blackened chicken.

"It's…good," I said, forcefully chewing a piece.

We might be able to talk freely, but I didn't want to outright offend him on our second date.

"Don't lie Kris," he said, shaking his head in frustration.

"It's just a little…crispy," I said, choosing my words wisely.

"I'm a horrible cook," he said, eyes growing dark as he looked at his plate.

"Hey, it's fine," I said, placing a hand over his.

He stiffened for a moment before flipping his palm over. I looked in surprise as his extremely warm hand squeezed mine for a moment before letting go.

"So you're saying we should still eat it?" he asked.

I looked at him for a moment before shaking my head.

"I mean, I don't want to be poisoned," I teased, hoping he would be alright with it.

"It's not_ poisonous_!" he said, eyes twinkling dangerously.

"Doesn't burnt food lead to cancer?" I asked sarcastically.

"Kris," he said warningly.

"Look, my hand subconsciously dialed the pizza place in my pocket," I said, outstretching my hand and cell phone.

"You have three seconds to run!"

I laughed and hopped up from the table, racing back in the direction of the living room. I heard thundering footsteps behind me and could literally feel the floor shaking before it suddenly disappeared from underneath me.

"Take it back!" Paul yelled, twirling me in a circle while I laughed.

"The food?" I asked dumbly. "I wish I could!"

Paul let out a gasp and suddenly dropped me on the couch cushions, crossing his arms.

"You're mean," he said childishly.

"So are you," I said, sticking my tongue out.

"Give me your phone," he said, rolling his eyes.

I handed it to him, smile still on my face.

"Pepperoni?" he asked flatly.

"Yes please."

"We'll finish this later," he said, smiling slightly.

* * *

Paul had his arm around me when I suddenly realized I was in way deeper than I thought. I mean, of course I was drawn to Paul's obvious gorgeous-ness, but the feeling in my chest right now could not be healthy.

The pizza box was discarded on the table now, no slices left thanks to Paul's massive appetite. Paul had put some movie I'd never heard of on, even though he claims "I must have seen every movie already."

To be honest, I wasn't paying that much attention.

"Do you like the movie?" Paul suddenly asked.

I woke from my heat-induced, close-proximity coma and turned to his expectant face. I couldn't describe it, but Paul always seemed to want to know I liked what we were doing. He didn't know I'd be fine doing anything.

"Definitely," I said with a huge smile, not wanting to disappoint him.

"I tried to watch this with the guys once, but they were assholes and just talked throughout the whole thing," he said.

So far, he'd mentioned these "guys" a few times. I'd learned that they were like his brothers, and apparently stretched past Embry and Seth and included many others. I've also concluded he had a temper with them, one that I hadn't yet witnessed full-force.

"My mom is like that," I said, smiling as I thought of her. "She asks questions throughout the whole movie, even though I clearly can't answer them."

Paul smiled and tightened his arm around me, which made me blush slightly under my dark hair. I turned my attention back to the TV and watched for a few moments before Paul interrupted again.

"Do you want to do anything when it's over?" he asked.

"I don't know. Maybe get some dessert," I suggested, looking at him with a shrug.

"But we just ate like an hour ago," he said with wide eyes.

"So?" I asked.

He looked at me for a moment with a strange, uncomprehending look. Then it quickly changed to a wide grin. And then, before I knew it, he pulled my face toward his and pressed his lips against mine.


	6. Chapter 6

Thanks for reviews! I love them ;)

* * *

My legs groaned in protest. I hadn't run for probably two weeks and I was already out of shape. I'd gotten caught up in the last few days and hadn't really had an opportunity to go out.

Let's just say Paul and I were getting along well. Really well. Like you could barely tell we just met type of well. And while that made me excited as hell, I was wondering if I was leading myself toward hurt because I had to leave in two and a half months. He obviously seemed to like me, but you could never be too sure about anyone until you asked them.

But for now I just pushed that from my mind and focused on my feet hitting the pavement.

It was nice running here, much nicer than running in a city. It was almost complete quiet, especially since I'd sneaked out in the morning before most people were awake. The sun wasn't as hot as it would be in a few hours, and I could jog in solitude.

I wondered how my mom was doing in New York. She told me she hated the smell, but loved the pretzels. And Brian absolutely loved Central Park. The poor kid was probably waking up everybody in that hotel with his set of lungs, but he could usually make people smile. I actually really missed him. I'd been working really hard to get his first words to be 'Kris' but it hadn't exactly worked to my advantage.

Smiling, I fixed the hair that had gotten loose from my ponytail. Even with them gone, I felt at ease here. I thought it would just be a boring Summer, a nice chance to see Ang, but not do much else. But it was certainly turning out different.

I rounded a corner and heard a rustling in the trees, quite similar to when our car broke down on the side of the road. I scanned the green bushes and saw nothing but a bird swooping down from a branch.

I'm turning paranoid.

_It's nothing_, I told myself. _Nothing but a deer or something. Bambi. The most harmless creature you could come across. _

…_Or a bear. Or a killer on the loose. Or some sort of furry creature with rabies. _

I quickened my pace and sprinted back toward Angela's house.

* * *

"I think my friends are going to come over tonight," Angela said, looking at me with a hopeful look. "Are you going to be here?"

I smiled, feeling a pang of guilt for not seeing her much in the last week. Paul and I had taken to eating lunch together almost every day, and at night she was usually out with Ben or babysitting.

"Of course," I said. "You know I want to meet them."

She beamed at me.

"They want to meet you too! Not much exciting happens here, so it's nice to meet new people. And I've talked about you—"

"Good things?" I cut in.

"Yes! So now they want to meet you even more," she concluded.

"There's so much pressure now," I joked, winking at her.

"Just be yourself," she said, patting me on the back.

I watched as her whirlwind brothers swept into the room. Angela eyed them before turning back to me.

"Paul's coming over at one right?" she asked, glancing at her watch.

"Yes," I nodded.

"Do you think you guys could run to the grocery store to pick up some snacks? I wouldn't usually ask—"

"Even though it's completely fine to ask," I reminded.

She smiled bashfully.

"I promised everyone I'd have enough food, but I have to watch my brothers. They don't handle all that junk food surrounding them well," she explained.

"Sure thing, Ang. Just give me two hundred dollars and I promise I'll come home with some food," I said.

"Good try. My mom left me twenty bucks on the table though," she with a smile.

I shook my fist in a 'nice try' way and looked at the clock on the wall.

"I suppose I should go make myself look semi-presentable for Paul," I said, rolling off the couch.

Angela laughed as I winked and walked up the stairs.

Twenty minutes later, with brushed hair and clean clothes, I walked back down to the living room. I hadn't heard a knock at the door but apparently Paul had come in and was now sitting with Isaac, playing a videogame. He probably wasn't the best with children, but Isaac had taken a liking to him, especially with his knowledge of mass destruction in games.

"Hey," I greeted.

Paul looked up the screen with a smile.

"Hey," he repeated.

Simple words from him could still make my stomach twist in knots. Pathetic? Maybe.

I sat on the arm of Angela's chair as she looked at me with a small smile. She was still really shy in front of Paul, and his less than talkative nature toward her resulted in an awkward conversation almost every time. I was working on loosening them both up in front of each other.

"What were you guys talking about?" I asked.

"I was telling him what kind of snacks might be good to buy," Angela chimed in softly.

"Trust me, I think he knows a lot about food," I said with a grin.

Paul grunted in response. I chuckled a little and turned my attention to the TV.

I watched the game for a moment, suddenly seeing Paul character's die.

"Aw man, you suck," I said in a sad tone.

"I do **not** suck," he argued, glaring at me.

"You kind of suck. That was a pretty easy level, wasn't it Isaac?"

"Yeah!" he agreed.

"I don't need you two double-teaming me. Let's just say that you're awful at plenty of things, Miss Green," Paul said, looking pointedly at me.

"Name one."

"Driving. Picking which food you want to eat. Being nice to strangers. Taking compliments. Breaking awkward silences—"

"Alright! Better than you—being nice to anyone. _Videogames_," I said with a knowing stare at Isaac. "Singing. Eating normal portions."

"I sing like an angel," he scoffed.

I smiled, mind drifting to his attempts to sing in the car last night.

"And I don't eat that much. You just eat like a bird," he said, waving his hand.

"So you admit that you suck at videogames," I said. "It's good that you've moved on to admittance. The next step is acceptance. And by the way, you eat like a monster," I added.

"You two are awfully mean to each other," Angela noted, looking at me and Paul.

I looked at Paul who was suddenly grinning widely.

"It works for us," I said with a matching grin.

"Ready to go?" Paul asked, handing the controller to Joshua and getting up. Our mock fight dissolved as I gave Ang a half hug and got up too.

"I'll see you tonight," I told her.

Paul's hand found mine as we walked to the door, giving my hand a squeeze. Angela's surprised yet amused eyes followed us the whole time.

"So what's our deal?" I asked boldly as we climbed into Paul's car.

He looked at me with a questioning expression.

"Meaning?"

"Meaning what's going on between us?" I asked.

I didn't want to be more invested in this than he was. I could feel strange things bubbling in my stomach and thoughts rising in my head that I'd never had before. I didn't want to be the only one worrying about these things.

"Wait, you're not in love with me yet?" he asked, clutching his chest.

I smiled, thinking of our first conversation where I'd briefly questioned his sanity.

"Not yet. But I think I kind of like you," I said, shrugging my shoulders.

Paul grinned, leaning over the seat to place a hard kiss against my lips. We'd had kisses since our first, but this one felt different. I had to grip the seat to remind myself I was firmly on the ground.

He pulled away suddenly, leaning his head against mine.

"I was lying before," he said, eyes glinting.

"About what?" I asked softly.

"The things you're awful at. I lied. You're perfect," he said, kissing me once more before returning to his side of the seat and starting the car.

I fought down the huge smile and shook my head. I liked the balance we had—of moments like this with moments of joking.

"Oh and Kris?" he asked, peeling onto the road.

"Yeah?" I asked.

"Let me know when you're in love with me," he reminded with a cocky grin.

"Will do," I said, rolling my eyes.

* * *

"We should get something we can make for lunch," Paul suggested as I pushed the cart down the aisle.

"What do you feel like?"

Before I gave him a chance to answer, Paul grabbed a box off the shelf.

"I used to love this when I was little," he said, shoving the box of macaroni and cheese at me.

"Me too!" I said, looking at the blue box fondly.

"I'll get more," he said, grabbing more boxes.

"Get the Spider-man ones!" I yelled loudly.

He looked at me with an amused expression.

"Tell me something," he said, looking at me seriously.

"What?" I asked curiously.

"Am I invited to your tenth birthday party?"

I frowned, lunging across the shopping cart to smack him on the shoulder. It probably hurt my hand more than his arm but I didn't show it. I crossed my arms to solidify my point…but he just tilted his head back and laughed.


	7. Chapter 7

Angela's friends were about to arrive when the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it," I called to Angela who was still upstairs.

She yelled something I couldn't understand, so I just made my way to the door. I did not expect the boy on the other side.

"Hey," Paul greeted, giving me a wide smile.

He had changed since before, and now wore a white T-shirt and a worn leather jacket. His dark eyes were dancing conceitedly as I looked at him appreciatively.

I wasn't exactly a girly girl. I didn't gossip about boys and have thoughts like _gosh, he's pretty, _but right now, that's all I could think about. I just wanted to brag to everyone how pretty he was.

"Uh, Kris?"

Whoops, gotta remember to speak now.

"What're you doing here? I thought you were going out with the guys," I commented.

"I am, we have to go…around," he said, shifting a little. "I just wanted to say good-night."

"Goodnight," I said, smiling at him.

"And of course, I wanted to tell you if any of these guys make a move on you, you let me know," he said sternly, giving me one of those ominous brooding looks he was good at giving.

"I wouldn't want to subject them to you," I said with a smile.

"I'm serious, Kris," he said, frowning. "I will kick their asses."

"Alright macho," I said, flicking his nose.

He grabbed my hand and pulled me closer. I could smell his cologne mingling with the mint of his toothpaste.

"Say you promise, say good-night, and kiss me," he demanded softly.

"I'm sorry, I don't like being told what to do," I said with a smile, willing my knees not to shake.

"Then choose one," he said, moving a little closer.

"Alright, alright," I said, leaning as close as I possibly could without meeting his lips. "I'll say good-night," I whispered, smiling once more before I pulled away from him.

"You're cruel, Green," he said, running a hand over his face.

"Sorry babe," I said, blowing him a kiss and reaching for the door.

He lowered his hand and smirked at me, before grabbing my arm again. He was about twelve thousand times stronger than I was, so before I knew it, I was right back inches away from him. And he didn't waste a second before kissing me roughly.

I wrapped my arms around his neck as his hands rested on my neck, pulling me as close as possible. He pressed just strongly enough not to push me backwards, and I was really starting to enjoy myself when I heard a throat clear from beside me.

Paul moved away from me reluctantly, and I saw a blonde boy standing next to us, looking rather uncomfortable.

"Hey," I greeted, feeling my cheeks flushing, "Angela's friend?" I guessed.

"Mike," he said, shifting on his feet a little.

I felt a little bad for him, especially since Paul was now glaring directly at his face.

"You gotta go right?" I said, pushing Paul a little.

Paul didn't budge, but rather kissed me one more time before slowly releasing me.

"I'll call you tomorrow," he said, his voice now completely different from usual. It was colder, and deeper. I was guessing he was doing it to intimidate this poor Mike who was now helplessly staring in the other direction.

"Okay, bye," I said, rolling my eyes at him.

It had been an amazing two weeks, but he was already being extremely overprotective. It's not like I was a walking knock-out, attracting all the guys that I met.

He turned slowly and took deliberate steps away from us, walking extremely close to Mike as he passed him. I rolled my eyes again, but put on a smile for Mike who looked much less tense now.

"Sorry for him," I said, "I'm Kris," I introduced, outstretching my hand.

He shook it with a small smile.

"Do you want to go inside or stand here being a little more uncomfortable?" I said, trying to break the tension.

He chuckled a little.

"The first please," he said.

I pushed open the door, just as he apparently recovered from the situation.

"So you're visiting Ang the whole Summer? How is everything going so far? One day, we should definitely go to the beach, if the weather holds…"

I smiled, happy that Paul hadn't scared him enough into not talking to me at all.

"Kris! I see you met Mike," Angela smiled, walking into the living room just as we entered.

"Yeah I did," I smiled.

"Great! Let's go get the snacks and wait for everyone else…"

And soon, I was meeting a bunch of people, including Ben, who was absolutely perfect for Angela. And I was trying to be as nice as possible, answering all their questions, because these poor kids rarely met people from out of town and actually found me interesting.

But somewhere, deep inside, I couldn't help but miss Paul a little bit. But then I thought it's only been _two weeks_, and pushed it a little father down.

* * *

After Angela's friends had piled out the door, Aunt Mary strolled into the room, stony faced as usual, with the phone in her hand.

"It's your mother," she said flatly, shoving the receiver at me.

I gave her a sickly sweet smile while Angela locked the door and left me alone in the living room. I moved some pillows over and sat down on the couch, getting comfortable.

"Mom?"

"Hey baby girl."

Hearing her voice suddenly made me miss home, which I almost hadn't thought about since I arrived.

"You're calling late," I commented.

"I just missed you is all," she said, sounding tired. "And your brother has been crying, so I was awake."

"How is he? Has he spoken yet? Put him on the phone so I can repeat 'Kris' over and over and it can be his first words," I said with a smile.

"Never, sweetie. It's going to be 'mom' and you need to give that up," she said, chuckling.

"How's New York?" I asked, propping my feet up on the coffee table.

"Busy. It's tiring me out," she said, yawning.

"Mom, you can go to bed, don't let me keep you."

"It's just good to hear your voice. I regret letting you go to Forks. You're going to college soon, and I wish I had more time to spend with you."

"Less than two and a half months mom, and then I'll see you. It won't be long, I promise," I said, suddenly feeling a pang of sadness.

"You're right. How's your aunt and uncle treating you?"

"Aunt Mary still hates me," I said glumly.

"She doesn't hate you, Kristina," my mom said. I could practically hear her eyes rolling.

"If you only knew," I said with a sigh.

"You remind her of your father," my mom excused.

My stomach knotted uncomfortably, like it always did when my mom mentioned my dad. It'd been a few years, but there was always that unmistakable misery lacing her tone that could make me feel like a child again, just wanting to hug her.

"I should go, mom, Angela and I are going to bed," I said, swallowing uncomfortably.

"Okay honey. I love you. I'll see you soon."

"Love you too. Soon," I agreed softly.

She hung up a moment before me, and I listened to the dial tone before I put the phone down.

Soon. I'd see her soon enough. Meaning I'd be leaving soon, and not coming back.

Paul's face suddenly flashed through my mind. I could still feel him kissing me from earlier, like it had just happened. My stomach flipped and my heart sped up in the same way.

A million things hit me full force.

I had to leave in less than two months. I'd be going to college. I'd be busy and adapting and I didn't expect everyone's life to stop just because I had a boyfriend. So we'd be going out for two weeks, and only had a little time left.

Was it worth it?

I mean, Paul said I was going to fall in love with him. What if he was right? What if I did, and then I just had to leave? I'm only eighteen years old, no one expects me to be serious right now. Maybe getting attached isn't the best idea.

My head throbbed. Usually, I'd call Lily, but it was late and she usually went to bed early. I rubbed my eyes, and hoped Angela was still up. I walked up the stairs slowly, almost dragging my feet. Angela's light was still on, and I found her sitting on the bed when I entered. She put down the book she was reading and looked at me curiously.

"You want to talk or go to bed?" she asked, sweeping up her hair into a ponytail.

"Talk," I said, collapsing next to her and laying my head on her shoulder.

"Okay, about what?" she asked.

I paused, taking a deep breath.

"I think I should break up with Paul."


	8. Chapter 8

Embry froze, seeing the light switch on in the room identified as Angela's. He didn't feel right sitting here like a spy, or some sort of pervert, but Paul had threatened him that if something happened to Kris, he'd be holding him responsible.

Paul's temper may have been in check lately, but Embry knew better than to mess around with something like that.

He swiftly stayed in the shadows, his eyes wandering around the backyard. He heard someone rummaging around in the room, but he couldn't see anything past the fluttering curtains. Paul probably wouldn't like the fact that the window was wide open, but at least it helped him hear if someone needed something.

Embry settled down—he'd be here for at least an hour. Paul and Jared were patrolling, and he should be at home sleeping. But Paul had asked him because he was the quietest and probably wouldn't put up much of a fight—he hated that he was a pushover.

He'd give anything for his bed right now. After he became a wolf, he practically hung off his old bed. But his mom had saved up and got him a new one for his birthday. It practically took up his whole room, but man, he would kill to be lying in it right now.

He was distracted by a new sound. It was just an bird landing on the tree above him. He snapped a little at the branches, the wolf in him suddenly coming out. He scratched the bark a little, but soon his ears perked as he heard a girl's voice say something. He was too far to hear more than muffled sounds so he crept forward, curious to what they were saying.

"Talk."

That sounded like Kris to him.

"Okay about what?" he heard Angela respond.

He suddenly felt like he was seriously violating privacy, so he turned around to go back to the woods. But then something very, very bad caught his attention.

"I think I should break up with Paul."

Uh-oh.

That was not good. Of all the possible boys to be imprinted with, Kris had to pick the most temperamental, and then want to break up with him? Embry slunk back to the woods, knowing this was not going to end well for anyone.

Imprints didn't do this! They didn't go into denial or break up with each other. Embry's mind filled with Sam and Emily, or Jared and Kim. They were disgusting! They gave each other those lovey eyes, and spent a lot of time together, and overall just **didn't** break up.

He streaked back through the forest, not caring that Paul would be pissed when he showed up and Embry was gone. He didn't want to hear anymore—already he was afraid of Paul seeing that in his thoughts.

Nope, not good.

Paul's angry face flashed through his mind. He saw him fighting with Jared. Fighting with Jacob. Leaping towards Bella and transforming.

If Kris broke up with him?

No, no, no.

Not. Good.

Embry slowed for a second, suddenly thinking of something. _If_ Kris did it. She said she _thinks_ she should. She was still thinking.

...So there was still time to change her mind.

* * *

"What are you talking about? You like him so much!" Angela said, lifting her head off of mine. I kept my head on her shoulder, not wanting to look her in the eye.

"Exactly."

"Normal people can't follow your train of thoughts, Kris. Explain for me?" Angela prodded softly.

"I like him so much, right? Well it's been two weeks! I feel like there's this weird part of me that is _pulled_ toward him…"

"I still don't see the problem," Angela said. I could hear the frown in her voice.

"I shouldn't be this way. I shouldn't feel this way. I'm getting too attached, and in the end of August, I have to leave."

"So you're going to _end_ something, because the _start_ is going so well?"

"Well you make me sound stupid when you say it all logically," I pouted, lifting my head off her shoulder.

"So you admit you're being illogical?"

"I'm always illogical. And indecisive. But shouldn't I just spare myself?"

"It's your choice," Angela said, looking at me sympathetically.

"Can't you just tell me what to do?"

"No," she chuckled a little, shaking her head.

"Not even a little bit?"

"I'll say one thing," she said.

I faced her, crossing my legs, and resting my chin on my hand.

"You're acting with your head. You're scared of what is going to happen so you want to escape it now. It could be a good thing, because you might not get hurt. Or it could be a bad thing, because you never know what's going to happen."

"That's like a summary of pro and cons," I said with a sigh.

"You're eighteen, Kris. Going to college, ready to be independent. Start with this choice," Angela said, patting my shoulder.

I watched with my mouth open as she got up to turn the lights off, leaving me to my air mattress. Angela was always **so** nice, and she actually just told me to grow up. That's when I knew I must be crazy.

I don't think I'm sleeping tonight.

* * *

Embry had nearly reached his house when Paul's voice broke into his thoughts.

_Why the hell aren't you with Kris?_

Dammit, dammit, dammit.

It's like when someone tells you not to think about something. It just pops right in there. Embry tried to clear his thoughts, think of other things.

His bed. The whipping trees. Claire's party last weekend. Quil covered in make-up. His mom making him dinner.

_Why the hell are you distracting me? What happened?_

**Nothing. They're fine. **Embry lied.

He tried to clear his thoughts again, but they kept drifting back to what Kris had said and pretty soon Paul was going to hear—

_She wants to break up with me? She said that? When? Why? What the hell?_

He could feel the anger rising in his voice. The slight undertone of desperation. If he wasn't already in wolf form, he would've transformed: he could hear the unmistakable quiver in his voice.

_I'm __**not**__ desperate!_

Crap Embry, shut up. You're making it worse.

_You are making it worse! I can't believe she said that! I'm going over there!_

**How're you going to explain that you found out? Supersonic hearing? Your friend was under her window? **Embry thought with panic.

_I don't know what I'll say, but you're an idiot if you think I'm not going over there!_

Embry almost followed him, but really, he knew there was no point.


	9. Chapter 9

I pushed the toy cars back and forth, hearing their wheels turning when I lifted them up into the air. The twins neglected them recently, probably getting too old to be amused by them. I put them down after a few minutes, taking a sip from my glass.

I was sitting in the living room in the dark, drinking my water and staring at the moonlight on the TV. If anyone were to walk in, they'd probably think I was sleepwalking, or crazy. Either way, I felt strangely calm.

I could freak out, right? Well the thing was, if I stopped and completely forgot about the irrationality of what I was doing and just thought about _Paul_, everything went away. Paul. Dark hair, blazing eyes, passion, humor.

Suddenly it didn't seem so scary anymore.

I pictured myself telling this to Lily. She could always tell when I liked someone—she said I got that weird twinkle in my eye, even when I denied it. I wondered if she'd point out the freaking meteor shower she'd probably see in there now.

That strange pull I tried to explain to Angela seemed even greater than ever before. Why should I resist it? It only weighed me down and hurt my head to go against what I was feeling.

So there, it was settled. I let my mind wander, not wanting to be consumed with this anymore. I should go to bed soon so I could wake up, run, take a quick shower, and—

I nearly jumped in the air when the doorknob started twisting. I craned my neck toward the door with wide eyes, looking around frantically.

Just my luck, I'm starting to feel calm and the freaking house is getting broken into!

I put down my water and swallowed forcefully. I should go wake someone, but they could get in by that point, and then my back would be to them.

Looking around again, I spotted Isaac's baseball bat near the closet. I grabbed it and slowly walked toward the door. My heart was beating so fast I could barely hear anything else. I ignored everything except the turning doorknob. Someone was forcefully pulling it, nearly rattling the doorframe.

I felt my heart jump into my throat. Is that possible? I don't care, because that's what it feels like, and if I'm about to die, I will think whatever I want.

I took another tentative step forward when the door suddenly stopped shaking.

I held my breath, hoping they'd given up. I stayed locked in position anyway, hands gripping the bat with so much force that my fingertips were changing colors.

I didn't want to just flee upstairs—he could be trying the back door! I was turning around when I suddenly heard more noises, this time coming from the window.

Someone hadn't closed it all the way, and I watched in gut wrenching fear as someone's hand crept in to push it upward.

Forks is a safe small town _my ass_.

It was definitely a man, I could tell that much, and I swallowed again, getting ready to scream.

I raised my bat, watching his hand pushing up the window.

"Stop right there!" I yelled, bringing the bat down with as much force as I could.

The hand recoiled immediately, and I raised the bat again in case he would try again.

"Shit, what the hell!"

I was about to scream for my uncle, but there was something distinctive about that angry tone.

"Paul?" I asked in shock, creeping forward to look directly out the window. And there he was, moonlight making his skin seem paler than he really was. His face was illuminated well enough for me to see his panicked expression, and also the fact that he wasn't wearing a shirt. Odd.

"Hey Kris, nice to see you too," he said, shaking his hand wildly.

"What was I supposed to think, you were breaking into Angela's house! Where's your shirt?" I cried, hoping I hadn't already woken up my aunt. Bet she'd have plenty of lovely things to say if she witnessed this predicament.

"It…got torn on a branch so I just took it off. I wanted to talk to you," he mumbled, shrugging. "I called your phone but you didn't answer—they were invented for this very reason you know," he said, nearly glaring at me.

"To prevent boyfriends from breaking into their girlfriend's cousin's houses? I don't think that was their intended purpose," I said, grinning.

"Are you going to let me in?" he asked, frowning.

"Yes. I have a question though," I said, looking at him.

"What?" he asked.

"Did you really think you'd fit through this window?"

He ignored me and walked toward the door while I laughed to myself. I walked the short distance and unlocked it, opening it widely. I put the bat down, letting my heart return to its normal pace and wondering what made me think I would've even been able to take on a robber.

"What did you want to talk about?" I asked as Paul quickly strode past me and plopped himself down on the couch.

I sensed his bad mood, but sat down next to him anyway, sitting with my legs crossed so I could see his face. It was dark but I could still see his eyes smoldering.

"What's wrong?" I asked softly.

"Nothing. Is there something wrong with you? Anything you want to talk about? Say? Share? You can tell me you know."

I looked at him with a small smile, watching him ramble.

"Seriously though, don't be afraid to tell me anything. It's why I'm here. The guys don't tell me a lot of stuff cause of my temper, but I won't get mad at you. Well I might, but I'll try really hard—why are you smiling?" he asked, looking at me desperately.

"Are you drunk?" I asked, chuckling.

"No," he said sternly.

I put my hand on his, lacing our fingers. It was hard to believe that a few hours ago I had even contemplated breaking up with him. Just sitting here was enough to remind myself that I couldn't possibly do that. I was going to be selfish and keep him to myself.

"Why are you acting so weird?" I asked.

He took a deep breath, opening and closing his mouth a few times.

"I don't know," he finally said, sighing. "Do you ever have doubts about us?"

He rushed the last part so much I barely heard it, but when I understood, I dropped my gaze to our intertwined hands. His fingers warmed mine instantly, and I raised my eyes to his. Maybe he was feeling exactly what I was.

"I freaked out a little earlier," I admitted, not wanting to keep secrets. "But I thought about it, and I like how things are. A lot."

The tension seemed to drain out of his face immediately. I felt my stomach twist as his smile broke out. He turned me around and pulled me toward him so his arms were wrapped around my waist. I felt their warmth through my pajamas, and smiled when he kissed the top of my head.

"Don't scare me like that, Kris," he whispered.

_I didn't do anything_, I thought, but I had a feeling I should keep quiet.

"You don't have doubts, do you?" I asked, suddenly realizing he hadn't addressed any of his.

"Would you believe me if I said I hadn't had a single one since the moment I saw you?"

"Such flattery," I said, not being able to fight the smile even though it was cheesy.

"Oh and Kris?" he said, voice suddenly stern.

"What?"

"If you think someone is breaking into the house, you go upstairs and call me, alright?"

"What you don't think I can take them?" I said with a pout.

"You were really intimidating with your baseball bat," he chuckled. "But seriously, just call me."

"Call me whenever you need me just call me," I sang, remembering one of my mom's favorite songs.

"Kris?" Paul asked, arms tightening around me.

"Yeah?"

"Are_ you_ drunk?"

I rolled my eyes and wriggled from his arms, which he reluctantly let me go from.

"You better leave before Aunt Mary catches you," I said, winking at him. "She already doesn't like me much and seeing me with a potential criminal who's half clothed wouldn't help matters."

"Girls like bad boys," Paul said, grinning widely, before pulling me close.

He kissed me before I got a chance to say anything, before pulling back quickly and kissing me a few more times. I could feel his muscles rippling under his chest.

Yup, he was a keeper.

"Go to bed, I'll see you tomorrow," he said.

He walked to the window, opening it completely. I watched in confusion, tilting my head to him.

"What are you doing?"

Comprehension flooded as I watched him stick his legs through. He slowly eased his body through, the width of his chest being nearly the same size as the window. I heard him groan as he pushed himself even farther, finally making it all the way out.

"See? I could totally fit," he said, nearly wheezing.

"My mistake," I said, smiling.

"See you tomorrow," he said, winking, before turning and walking until I couldn't see him through the darkness.


	10. Chapter 10

I'd never felt disconnected to Lily before, but as she rambled about some of our casual friends and the latest scandal among them, I couldn't have felt farther away from her. I kept up with the occasional question and "Mmhm' to show I was listening, but for some reason I didn't feel a part of that anymore. I guess distance has a way of doing that. It made my chest ache a little to think it would be like that with my friends when I went to college.

"So Jenna finally just broke up with him. Isn't that crazy? Everybody thought they were going to last for such a long time," Lily said.

I smiled a bit—Lily, at least, wasn't different. She loved to gossip ever since we were little, but also had severe loyalty to her close friends. That clearly hadn't faded.

"It's crazy," I agreed, not even quite sure who Jenna was even dating in the first place. She never liked me much, so I took care to ignore her.

"I know," Lily agreed. "But who cares. She's really awful to you."

Lily had gotten into many verbal arguments on my account, one of the most vivid ones with Jenna.

"Thanks," I chuckled.

"I should probably go and take a shower," Lily sighed. "My dad wants to go to dinner—just me and him. Some fancy new place that just opened. It should be interesting."

I cringed for her. A product of divorce, Lily split her time between her parents, but her dad always seemed to be in competition with her mom. Lily was spoiled rotten as a consequence, but I knew she didn't like the extravagance just to gain her affection. She always hated when they tried to buy her.

"Good luck Lil," I said apologetically.

"Thanks Kris. I'll talk to you later."

I said good-bye and hung up, throwing the phone on Angela's bed. She was out with Ben somewhere, so I retreated upstairs. My cousins were playing video games so the television was taken, and my aunt was in the kitchen so I didn't dare rummage for food. My uncle was out back, and I supposed I could've gone outside, but he looked peaceful so I left him alone. Paul was being weird about his plans for today, so I figured he wanted some guy time.

I sat on the bed, looking around. I needed some hobbies. At home, I loved to play my drums, but the Weber's didn't have a drum set here, and I doubt my aunt would've liked the noise anyway.

I wanted to go on the computer, but the internet was so slow here I just didn't have the patience. I could go running, but I just took a shower so I don't really want to get all sweaty.

Was there anything to do in Angela's room?

Looking around, I realized I so rarely spent time in here besides sleeping. I looked at the pictures Ang had by her bedside, a few of her friends, one of her and the twins, and one of the family which I was in. I smiled slightly as I traced our faces, bright and smiling and covered in birthday cake. We must've been six or seven. I could see my mother laughing in the background, my dad's arm around her waist. I let my smile fade slightly and put the picture back down.

Angela had a bookshelf, of course, and I scanned over the more familiar titles. I could read if I got bored enough.

On the opposite wall was a picture of just Ang and I. I had drawn it a few years ago, when I was still in art class. It wasn't the best thing I'd ever done. The class I took the next year really helped me, so this seemed a little pale by comparison. But every time I thought of canvases and paint and colored pencils I could only see my dad. His hands were always covered in some unnatural color, and almost every time I hugged him I could smell oil paint and wood, the scents of his studio.

Some dads taught their kids to ride bikes, my dad taught me how to do shading and cross-hatching. Well, he taught me how to ride a bike too, but he wasn't as enthusiastic about it.

I looked out the window quickly to see it had started to rain. Typical. I rolled my eyes and lay across the bed, staring at the ceiling. I don't know how long I looked at the white tiles before I heard my cell phone ringing.

Glancing at the screen, I saw a picture I had taken of Paul when he wasn't suspecting it. I smiled at his mixed look of surprise and anger, and flipped open my phone.

"Hello?"

"Diner?"

"No, this is Kris, I think you have the wrong number," I said.

"Ha ha," Paul said flatly.

"What am I now? I don't even get a hello? Just a grunt of a plan?" I asked, frowning.

"I'm sorry _darling_," Paul emphasized. "How are you today? I hope good. Did I mention you were beautiful? Well, my friends are going to the diner and they would love you to come, as would I."

"Too formal!"

"I can't win with you," Paul groaned.

I could hear his eye roll—that's how good I was getting at judging him. I could also hear the smallest, tiniest of smiles that I would point out if I were standing next to him.

"I would love to go. Please break me out of this house," I said, hopping up.

"Done. I'll be there in ten minutes," he said. "Is that enough time for a girl to get ready?"

"I'm not a _girl _girl," I said, already slipping my shoes on, nearly ready to go.

"Oh really?" Paul asked, amused.

"Not a girly girl, I mean," I said, rolling my eyes.

"Listen, if you're not a girl than I have been seriously misinformed about some things—"

"Shut up," I interrupted. "Kindly get your ass over here."

"I like my men bossy," Paul growled.

"I hate you."

I hung up, but not before hearing his booming laugh echo through the phone.

* * *

"This is Jared, Kim, Embry, Seth, Brady, and Jake," Paul introduced.

I smiled at all of them, but was severely overwhelmed. With the obvious exception of Kim, they all had similar features and were smiling really oddly at me. They all, Paul included, looked vaguely related with their dark skin and bulging muscles. I felt a little odd with my paleness and scrawny-ness, but they seemed friendly enough. I waved, especially to Embry and Seth, the only ones I knew.

"This is Kris," Paul said.

I felt my stomach flip at his proud tone, and I couldn't control my stupid smile.

"Say hello everyone."

"Hello," they chorused, with a few variations in the combined effort.

"There's so many of you," I said, as Paul wrapped an arm around my waist.

"We're missing some, actually," one of them...I think Jake said, grinning goofily. "You'll learn names eventually. Mine's Embry, in case you forgot."

"Don't confuse her, stupid!" Paul scolded, glaring harshly.

"More like don't use the name of one of the people I actually know," I said, winking at Embry who smiled shyly.

"Well as fun as this is, let's not stand here. I don't know about everyone else, but I'm starving."

It didn't matter which one of them had said it, because a look at this huge group of guys was enough to guarantee they'd all agree.

Paul grabbed my hand as we walked, immediately enveloping me in warmth. I was glad it was air conditioned in here. We followed the group to a table big enough to fit us. Paul sat on my left, while Kim sat on my right. I smiled at her, eager to talk to another girl.

As if sensing my thoughts, she smiled and began talking.

"Nice to have another girl here," she said. I could tell she was shy, but I was pretty sure we'd bond just over our similar circumstances.

"Right? You must be drowning in testosterone," I said sympathetically.

She laughed and nodded, before we were rudely interrupted by the waitress.

"Are you ready to order?"

Her gum smacked loudly around her mouth as she looked at us boredly.

"A few minutes please," the boy to Kim's right said.

She rolled her eyes and walked a few feet away, starting to talk to a bus boy.

"Someone's asking for a low tip," Paul growled next to me.

I smiled and nodded. Sometimes we had the same thoughts. We could hear her complaining about something in a nasally voice to the boy, and both rolled our eyes.

"This is where we came on our first date you know," Paul commented, eyes scanning over the menu.

"I remember, it wasn't that long ago," I chuckled.

"Yeah, but doesn't it feel like it? Like it's been a while, I mean?" Paul asked, looking up at me.

I smiled, nodding.

"Yeah, it does," I said, pushing some hair our of his face before kissing his cheek which burned under my lips.

"You're so warm," I said, frowning.

"High body temp," Paul shrugged.

I shrugged too, ready to say something else when the annoying waitress was back, standing almost in between me and Paul. She still had that crackling gum and was now checking out Paul quite obviously.

Whore, please. Back. Up.

"Are you ready now guys?" she asked in a sickly sweet tone, as if she'd just realized who she was talking to.

"You get used to the girls flirting," Kim whispered in my ear.

"The price of being around tall, dark, handsome men?" I asked.

She nodded, smiling.

"Let's both glare at her," Kim said, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.

"I like the way you think," I chuckled.

After a long, loud dinner, I felt more at ease with the guys. Most of them had great sense of humors, but were nice to match, which made me feel much better about fitting in. Kim and I also had a few side conversations, and I decided if I needed advice on the guys I would go to her.

Finally, after messing up three of our orders, flirting with almost every boy at the table, and annoying the hell out of us, the waitress handed us our check. She started to grab the plates, leaning across the table so that her chest was very much in all our faces.

Gag. Me.

Paul and I continued to make fun of her as Embry calculated the check.

"Could her boobs be in our face a little more?" I groaned.

"Could her voice whine a little more?" Paul asked.

"Does grilled cheese sound anything like chicken salad?" I asked.

"Does refill mean ignore me for an hour?" Paul growled.

I was about to retort when we heard the sudden clank of dishes and a scream. We both instantly looked over to the corner of the restaurant, unable to stop our responses.

* * *

We watched as the annoying girl suddenly tripped over a customer's shoe and pitched forward. Immediately, Paul and Kris could not stop their laughter as she squealed and huffed. She picked some food out of her hair and looked at the broken dishes in anger. They leaned into each other, laughter echoing as the rest of the boys looked at them in astonishment.

"It's like Paul in girl form," Embry whispered to Seth.

Jared must have heard him because he nodded with a grin, winking at Embry.

"Kris doesn't bite people's heads off," Seth whispered in protest. "I think she's the nicer one in the situation."

They looked back at the couple, who were now leaning against each other for support. The annoying girl had recovered, and was now walking away carrying the plates that hadn't been broken. Just as she passed our table, however, Kris shot her foot out and the girl tumbled forward again. Paul quickly pulled her away before the girl could look around, and Embry and Jared turned to Seth with smiles on their faces.

"Maybe I was wrong," Seth mumbled.

Embry watched as Paul high-fived Kris and looked at her like he was going to propose marriage that very second.

"Maybe Paul's a bad influence?" Jared suggested.

They got up from the table, leaving their money before following Paul and Kris outside.

"At least they found each other," Embry shrugged.


	11. Chapter 11

July was fast approaching now, and I was beginning to realize how much I loathed it. June was just so _beautiful_. June was the end of school, but the prospect of Summer still lingered in front of us. June meant we had that extra time. June was the possibility of nearly two entire months left with Paul.

July and I were not going to be friends. Don't even get me started on what a bitch August was going to be.

I sighed and threw my notebook on top of my suitcase. Three weeks here and I hadn't regretted a single day. Except maybe the first when I thought Paul was a gorgeous, angry, stalker. And of course the second time I had hung out with the boys, which was two days ago.

Let me warn the general population: if a boy dares you to eat something, don't do it. They have significantly higher 'gross' radar than most normal people do, and your gag reflex will follow. I learned that the hard way and still need sweet revenge on Jacob and Quil.

I squirmed a little just at the memory, shaking my head and walking downstairs.

At my great insistence, Angela finally went out. We both felt bad because we planned to be with each other, but we hadn't been spending a lot of time together. I debated a mixing of our two groups—her friends, and Paul's, but she quickly informed me that they didn't generally hang out together. I wanted to know why, but Ben had arrived before I had a chance to ask, so now I was here.

The twins were at their friend's house and my aunt and uncle were at the store, so I was left to my own devices. Every once in a while, when he wasn't hanging around at every possible second, Paul got weird about his plans with the guys. It was usually late at night, so I didn't want to know what they were doing. It affected me because that meant he'd usually sleep extraordinarily late the next morning, or rather, afternoon.

My uncle told me I could take his car if I wanted it. There were two in the garage, so there was usually one left when someone went out. But I didn't know any places around here besides Paul's house, the beach, and the diner, and I couldn't really go to any of them right now.

So, I flipped on the television. I wasn't going to be a stupid mess without her boyfriend kind of girl, I was going to stand strong.

_Yeah, look at you, watching TV all by yourself. Way to take a stand_ my logic echoed. But I ignored it and turned up the volume.

* * *

Paul was still tired when he woke up, but realized it was almost twelve and he promised Kris he would be over for lunch. He nearly rolled out of bed, stretching his sore muscles and slipping on a T-shirt. He didn't bother looking in the mirror, because he was in a rush and didn't really care about the state of his hair.

Right after he brushed his teeth, he nearly rammed into his mother in the hallway, but quickly caught her and moved her aside before she fell. She held her heart, and he grinned cheekily at her.

"Sorry Ma."

"Where are you going in such a rush, Paul?" she asked, giving him a smile that let him know she knew _exactly_ where he was going.

"I'm having lunch with Kris," he said in an even tone, not letting her embarrass him like she wanted to.

"And when am I going to meet this girl?" she asked, her strange smile growing bigger.

"Never if you keep smiling like that," he whined.

She had to stand on her toes to kiss him ever since he phased, and he watched as she did it now, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

"You're lucky. I was this smitten with your father and I didn't meet him until I was twenty-five."

He growled a little at the mention of his father, but didn't shake like he normally used to. It seemed like since he met Kris, he could calm down a lot easier. He could picture her on their first date, pointing out his temper and dark eyes with a goofy smile, which immediately made him relax.

His mother had noticed the growl however and she lightly slapped his arm.

"None of that," she said, putting on a brave grin. "You go meet your girl, and tell her your mother wants to have dinner one night."

"Will do, Ma," he agreed, glad she had moved on from trying to embarrass him...

"And you better tell her, or I'll break out the awkward puberty pictures!"

...And she was back.

* * *

I had gotten so into my show that I didn't notice when Paul walked in, stooped down to kiss me, and then stopped upon seeing my face.

He froze, got an angry look on his face that morphed to concern, and sort of growled a question at me.

"Why are you crying? Who made you cry?"

I hastily wiped my face, turning away from his assessing eyes.

"I will kill them, Kris. Who was it?" he demanded, grabbing my shoulders and forcing me to look at him.

I rolled my eyes at his macho attitude. I wasn't used to someone being constantly ready to defend me. I felt like I had some sort of old-fashioned prince instead of an overgrown teenager.

"No one," I mumbled, blinking a few times.

"Don't lie," he said, crouching in front of me.

"It's nothing," I said shaking my head.

"Just tell me," he prodded.

* * *

She mumbled something intelligible, so Paul got a little closer to her.

"What?" he asked.

She muttered something again, but all he could make out was 'home' or something, so it didn't make sense.

"What?" he asked again.

"Extreme Home Makeover, okay?!" she yelled, pushing Paul aside.

He looked at her frustrated face for a moment before breaking into laughter. He couldn't help how it echoed throughout the empty house, even though she was glaring daggers at him.

"You really are a softy underneath that exterior, huh?" he choked, laughter dying down.

"It's a good show," she defended, crossing her arms. "Those families really deserve those new houses. When they move that bus, I_ dare_ you to not be moved."

He smiled at her widely, taking a seat next to her. He breathed in the familiar scent and put an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close so he could kiss the top of her head. He couldn't believe he had ever dreaded imprinting. He thought it was like being whipped_. Having_ to care for someone, being consumed with them. He never really took into consideration the soul mate part of it, and how much he would want to be around his imprint.

He actually got stomach aches when he thought about his previous notions. How could be so stupid about it all?

Kris shifted in his arms, finally warming up to him. He smiled again, pulling her into his lap.

"You can change the channel now, since you're just going to make fun of me," she said, handing him the remote.

He took it quickly and kissed her neck, nuzzling his face into it.

"I was kidding," he muttered, placing another kiss on her cool skin.

He loved that she shuddered a little, turned in her lap, and placed both hands on the side of his face. He never felt like this with a girl. He was always the calm, collected one. He wanted girls to fall for him, but he stayed at a distance, never getting too attached.

Kris could make him do almost anything, if she wanted. He was pretty sure she wasn't aware she had this power, but she would learn it soon. It was probably written all over his face when she leaned in to kiss him.

He smiled slightly before throwing the remote aside and wrapping his arms around her. She leaned ever farther into him, prying his mouth open forcefully. He felt his stomach turn, every nerve in his body opening in excitement. She shifted in his lap, and he felt dangerously like he was soon going to be on a thin line between going overboard.

He continued to enjoy the warmth of their bodies pressed together and the feel of her lips for the next few minutes, before making a hard decision.

Using every piece of will power he had, he slowly pulled back. Kris barely opened her eyes. Her cheeks were flushed, he noticed, and that made her look even prettier. He had to look away, catching his breath.

"So..." Kris said, recovering slightly. "TV?"

He nodded wordlessly, letting himself relax. He kept her in his lap, holding her from behind. She moved until comfortable and he grabbed the remote again, flipping through the channels.

He stopped on a war documentary, still replaying the previous moment over and over in his head. He felt himself getting worked up again when Kris's voice broke into his thoughts.

"Where were you last night?" she asked, more curious than prying.

"Out with the guys," he said flatly, like he'd said many times. It wasn't a lie, it just wasn't the whole truth.

"Doing what?" she asked.

"Guy stuff?" Paul said gruffly.

"Alright, keep it to yourself," Kris said, scoffing.

"Nothing interesting," he excused.

She was silent for a moment. He was afraid she was mad, so searched for something to change the subject with.

"My mom wants to meet you. She said you can come over for dinner one day."

"Really?"

"Yeah, of course," he smiled. He felt better every day that she became a bigger part of his life.

"Is she a better cook than you?"

He frowned, remembering his very burnt chicken on their second date. He flicked her ear in annoyance.

"Yeah," he mumbled.

"Great. I'll have to compile my list of questions so I have some ammo against you in the future," she said.

He could hear her smile.

"Oh great, just what I need," he groaned.

She fidgeted happily in his lap and he rested his head against her shoulder. They both started to pay more attention to the tanks that were now rolling across the screen.

"You like war stuff?" she asked.

"Yeah, I always thought it was interesting," he replied.

"You know, I could see you as a soldier," she commented, grabbing one of his hands.

"I sort of am," he answered without thinking.

She paused for a second, before turning her head slightly. He felt panic start to rise as she looked at him through the corner of her eye.

"Why?" she asked.

He scrambled for a moment, willing himself not to shake in anger. Why the hell did he say that? It would probably not go over well to blurt out 'Cause I'm a werewolf and I protect everyone from enemies?' right? Somehow this just didn't seem like the right time.

"Because I'm in shape, hang out with a bunch of guys, and take orders from you," he excused, trying to sound as airy as possible.

It wasn't easy to sound airy when it killed him to lie, and triggered the temper that he was notorious for. So, he really just hoped he sounded _sort_ of normal.

Kris chuckled a little delayed, and slowly turned back to the TV. He let out a small breath, hoping she didn't feel the loosening of his chest.

One thing was for sure.

He didn't know how much longer he could keep this up.


	12. Chapter 12

I barely got any reviews last time. Kinda sucks.

Just a note: I don't even know what book this is in. Let's just pretend it's frozen in its own little space time continuum.

* * *

"I've never done the meet the parents thing before Lily," I sighed, shaking my head in worry.

"Relax, Kris. I was really nervous when I met Ryan's parents, but they liked me," she said breezily.

"Well that's unhelpful. Last time I checked we weren't the same people," I growled.

"Don't take your anger out on me Kristina Amy Green," she chided in her motherly voice.

"Be better at advice giving, Lily Ann McAdams," I mimicked.

"Okay you want some advice?" she asked.

"Yes," I said.

"Be the exact opposite of how you're being right now."

We were both silent for a second before we dissolved into laughter. After a few seconds of catching my breath, I felt slightly better. Lily and I always had a strange relationship.

"Listen," Lily said, her tone changing, "This Paul sounds a lot like you. Therefore, his mom must be used to him. So just be yourself," she said.

I paused, thinking about her rationality.

"This is…true," I commented.

"See? I'm hundreds of miles away, I've never met Paul, and I'm still helpful. You did a good job picking friends," she said with pride.

"So modest," I joked, rolling my eyes.

"Alright, go now. Wear something not slutty—"

"—Like I even own slutty clothes—"

"—Compliment her food—"

"—No, I think I'll _criticize_ it—"

"—Don't play footsy under the table—"

"—I don't do that!"

Lily laughed, stopping her list.

"Good luck. Call me later with details."

"Sure. Thanks for _some_ of the advice."

"The footsy thing was a very valid statement," she protested.

"Good-bye Lily," I said flatly.

"Bye Krissy."

I threw my phone on my mattress and turned to my left where Angela was sitting on her bed with an amused expression. I wasn't even going to ask her what she was thinking, but she talked first anyway.

"I've rarely seen you nervous," she said with a small smile. "You must really like Paul."

Understatement of the century, I thought. But first, let's get me some clothes.

* * *

"You're bouncing your knee a lot," Paul commented.

I stopped immediately, looking at Paul. His eyes were back on the road now but he had a huge smile on his face as he drove.

"Stop smiling like that," I commanded, crossing my arms.

"She's not going to eat you," Paul teased, eyes flickering to me playfully.

"I know. I'm not nervous," I lied.

"You're an awful liar," Paul said, voice on the verge of laughter.

"Yeah well you're an awful boyfriend," I said, glaring at him.

"There you go lying again!" Paul said, but I could sense the slightly hurt tone in his voice.

Baby.

I grabbed one of his hands while he drove with the other, giving it a squeeze. He interlaced our fingers and kept driving one handed, the look in his face slightly lighter. At least he didn't hold grudges.

We didn't speak for a while, so I took to watching the scenery pass and trying to calm down. It was just a person, right? I was capable of this. No big deal. Just a little meet and greet. Dinner…with Paul's mom there.

"We're here," Paul announced a few minutes later, letting go of my hand momentarily as we both got out of the car.

"Now if she starts to come at you, just remember I'll protect you," Paul mocked, wrapping an arm around my shoulder as we walked inside.

"I hate you," I groaned.

"Then why are you meeting my mom?" he asked, kissing my cheek.

* * *

Paul's mom turned out to be the least intimidating person I'd ever met. She looked fairly young, but before I got a chance to really look at her face she was hugging me warmly. As the dinner went on, I wondered how she'd had such a..._Paul-ish_ son, but as she joked around I realized her sense of humor might have had something to do with it.

I started to eat my food and watched as Paul happily stuffed his face, barely listening to our conversation. I rolled my eyes at him, unsurprised, slowly pushing a napkin toward him that he simply ignored.

"I have a question Kristina," Paul's mom said, grinning at me.

I raised my eyes over my pasta dish to meet hers, which were sparkling in my direction.

"Yes?" I asked.

"What exactly do you see in my pig of a son?"

Paul paused for a moment, grinning with an open mouth while we both grimaced. He recovered quickly and swallowed, before pouting.

"We discussed this mom," Paul said, "_Try _to be nice to me in front of company."

"Why? I think she's acting perfectly fine," I said, smiling at him.

"I knew you two would double team me," he mumbled, turning his eyes downward.

Paul's mom reached out to pinch his cheek, grinning happily at him.

"Just promise me you don't eat like that in public. People will question how I raised you," she sighed.

"I don't think people really care how I eat," Paul shrugged.

Paul's mom rolled her eyes, turning back to me.

"So how do you like La Push?"

"Well I stay with my cousin in Forks, but I've been here a few times," I explained. "It's…rainy," I said.

"You don't notice it as much as time goes on," she chuckled.

"Yeah, and it's nice. I'm not used to the small town thing," I said.

"You're from Seattle right?" she asked.

"Mmhmm. You've lived here forever?" I asked.

"Yes. I bought this house when Paul was three months old," she said, looking fondly at her son.

I smiled as Paul nodded in agreement.

"I remember that day well," he said.

I rolled my eyes as his mother just chuckled and shook her head.

"We've lived through everything in this house. I would show you pictures, but I know Paul's hidden them out of fear," she said, looking pointedly at him.

"You promised not to take them out," Paul said sternly.

"I know they're in your underwear drawer, honey. Do you think I'm afraid to go in there? Who do you think used to change your diapers?"

I laughed out loud as Paul's face fell into a frown, his cheeks reddening slightly.

"Mom!"

We both laughed as he sank into his chair. I noticed he looked kind of adorable when he was blushing. More so than usual at least. I guess it was fun to see him, the confident, snarky one be embarrassed.

A few more jabs at Paul and an almost-spill later, we had all cleaned our plates.

"Why don't you show Kris around while I get dessert?" Paul's mom suggested.

"Sure," Paul said, grabbing my hand.

He pulled me up, toward the stairs. I had only ever been downstairs, so I guess he was going to show me the other floor.

"You don't seem worried anymore," Paul said, kissing my head before we started walking up the stairs.

"I'm not. I don't want to rush anything, but I'm pretty sure I like your mom better than you."

Paul glared at me while I smiled sweetly.

He grumbled and, threw open the door, walking into what I presumed to be his room. As I walked in, I saw it was pretty clean for a boy's room. The bed was huge, but the covers were swept aside. Knowing Paul and his abnormal heat, he probably didn't even need them. He had a dresser and some sneakers piled on one wall, and a basket of sports things—footballs and cleats on the other. There was nothing on the wall except a single poster of some athlete I didn't recognize.

"If I didn't know any better," Paul commented, stopping in the middle of the room, "I would say you didn't like me at all."

"Not like you?" I asked.

He turned to me with an indifferent expression so I wrapped my arms (as best as I could) around him and buried my face in his chest. He wrapped his own arms lightly around me, tightening after a few seconds.

"If I didn't like you, would I spend every day with you?" I asked.

"I don't know, maybe you're after me for my looks."

"They're just a bonus, babe," I chuckled, my laugh absorbed in his chest.

"Maybe you're after me for my money," he suggested.

"Sorry, do you have money I don't know about?" I asked.

He paused for a moment, and I could hear his heartbeat through his thin T-shirt.

"…No," he admitted.

I chuckled again, noticing he didn't make any more suggestions. We stood there for a few moments before I spoke again.

"You know that I get stomach aches just from thinking about leaving?" I asked, biting my lip.

It was the first time we had addressed the fact that I would be going anywhere. I knew that we had both been thinking about it. Or, at least I had. But it sounded so much scarier when I said it out loud.

"Me too," he sighed.

I couldn't see his face, but I didn't move from my position. There was something comforting in his strong embrace, even with my stomach twisting.

"What…are we going to do about that?" he asked uncertainly. I could hear the curiosity in his voice, laced with concern and an unidentifiable…pain?

"I don't know," I said honestly.

"You're not just going to leave without a trace right?" he asked.

"No," I said, pulling back to look at him. "You think I would do that?"

His features were stern and set, but his eyes betrayed him.

"No, I'm just afraid you will."

I swallowed and shook my head.

"I promise not to," I said, wanting him lose that look. "At the least, I'll leave a bitchy note."

"I don't suppose you could just stay?" he offered, not even smiling at my joke.

"Let's just…think about it later," I said, lowering my eyes.

He let out a huge breath and lifted up my chin with his fingers.

"Don't be sad because of me," he whispered.

I smiled slightly at him. I had never, ever, in my entire life wanted to do something just because someone had told me to. But Paul was making me break a lot of my previous rules.

"You know what would make me feel better?" I asked softly.

"What?" he asked, eyes brightening.

"Seeing those pictures in your underwear drawer," I whispered.

He paused when he realized what I said, and frowned. I enjoyed the brooding look in his eyes as the deep brown struggled and contemplated something. Finally he dropped his arms from around my waist and trudged with heavy feet to the dresser.

"If you tell anybody what you've seen, I will kill you."

I let myself push away thoughts of leaving and laughed happily. _At least we have time left_ I thought as I plopped down on his bed, watching as he dug for the album.


	13. Chapter 13

Thanks to everyone who reviewed lately. :) For your kindness I present...the longest chapter yet!

* * *

"You have to rinse the dishes before they go through the dishwasher or else some food stays encrusted on them. And then who gets to clean it? Me, of course," Aunt Mary said, shaking her head at me.

"I thought that was the dishwasher's job. I didn't want to take its pride away from it," I said flatly.

She wasn't amused at my sudden lack of filter. I could hear my mother's voice saying _be nice_ against Paul's more prominent _Tell her to suck it_. Let's just say Paul's voice was winning.

"Don't take that tone with me, Kristina. I don't want to tell your mother all you did was give me attitude," she said harshly.

I wash the dishes, I do my laundry, I pick up after myself, I don't criticize her cooking (and believe me I could)…and I have attitude? How was this my father's sister? For all I care, she could shove it up her—

"Are you listening to me?" she asked, breaking me from my mind rant.

"Of course," I said in my innocent voice.

"Is your giant of a boyfriend coming over today?" she asked.

I dug my fingernails into my palms as not to claw her eyes for talking about Paul in a bad way. It was alright when I did it. It was significantly bitch worthy when she did it.

"Yes," I said with clenched teeth.

"Don't you two spend a little too much time together?" she asked.

"No," I said.

"You're young," she said, as if it was a bad thing. "Too young for—"

"Mom!"

I turned to see Isaac walking into the room. Bless that little kid and his ice cream smeared face.

"I got a little dirty," he said, smiling with chocolate cheeks.

"Oh, come here," she said, grabbing a dish towel.

Before she had a chance to look, I slipped out of the room.

Fight: avoided.

I started to walk for the stairs when I saw Paul's car from the window. I almost ran to the door and jerked it open, just as his hand fell mid-air before knocking.

"Eager to see me?" he asked in a cocky tone, smirking.

"Shut up and come upstairs," I said, pulling his hand.

"Geez Miss, at least buy me dinner first. You think I'm that easy?" Paul said in mock offense.

I rolled my eyes and attempted not to blush as I pulled him toward Ang's room. It was currently empty because she was taking a shower.

"What's the hurry?"

"Avoiding talk with Aunt Mary," I whispered, opening the door.

"Do you want me to kick her ass?" he asked in a serious tone.

"The options are slowly coming down to that," I said, letting go of his hand as we finally got into the room.

Paul looked around curiously for a second, before spotting my stuff.

"What's that notebook?"

I froze slightly, eyes flicking to the familiar red worn cover.

"I just doodle in it," I said airly, edging closer to its spot on the floor. I didn't really need him to see some things that I had written down.

"Then why are you moving closer to it?" Paul asked amusedly with a smirk on his face.

"I'm just walking," I excused.

"Then why is your voice higher than usual?" Paul pointed out.

"Why is your face uglier than usual?" I spat, sticking my tongue out.

"Well I wasn't gonna look, but since you were mean…"

In a flash, I was reaching for the notebook and he was on my tail, lifting me off the ground. I watched as the floor disappeared quickly and my notebook grazed my fingertips before coming out of reach. I looked into Paul's face with a scowl, shaking my head.

"Don't look at it!"

He started to laugh and carried me toward the bed, dropping me lightly on it. I tried to struggle free but it was no use against his stupid, steroid like muscles.

He held me down for a few more seconds before dashing toward the notebook, picking it up in lightning speed. I raced after him but he held it clear above my head tauntingly.

"Not fair Goliath!" I growled, jumping as high as I could and still not reaching his outstretched arm.

"Get some stones, David," he teased, not affected by my clawing hands or distress.

"Let's see here," Paul said, flipping open the notebook in the air. "What don't you want me to see? Do you doodle my name in hearts? Because that's completely understandable, I'm a fucking _catch_."

I would've normally laughed, but he was flipping past some To Do lists and getting to the embarrassing things.

"Buy sunscreen…" he muttered, "Sorry babe, this is Forks. Buy razors, hmm, shampoo, conditioner…boring," he droned.

"C'mon Paul," I protested, knowing full well I was going into whine mode.

"There has to be something here you didn't want me to see," he said, frowning and continuing to flip pages.

"Nope, just how lame I am," I said, shrugging and hoping he would drop it.

"Ideas for Law and Order?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Hey, they would be lucky to have some of my ideas," I said, crossing my arms.

He chuckled and kept looking before he suddenly stopped on a page and turned to me with glee.

"Paul's Friends?" he asked, his laughter suddenly booming through the room.

"There are a lot of them!" I cried, shrinking away from him as my face grew scarlet.

"Quil: Really good friends with Jacob and Embry, good with kids…" Paul read in a loud voice. "Jacob: great sense of humor but weird relationship with that pale girl…Embry: quieter than the rest but easy to talk to, Jared: Kim's boyfriend, one of the closest to Paul, good-looking…_good-looking_?" he suddenly growled.

Yup, I might permanently stay red. I looked away from Paul's intense glare.

"You're all good-looking you idiot!"

"You specifically wrote it for Jared," he pointed out harshly.

"I think he's the second most good-looking," I shrugged, slightly happy that he was mad after he insisted on doing this to me.

"He better be second," Paul growled.

"Yeah," I said pausing. "Of course Seth is first," I said, not daring to look up.

I was in the air in about five seconds, Paul's hands firmly on my waist as he spun me around.

"Take it back Kristina Green," he said, walking toward the bed and once again putting me on it.

"Why, what're you gonna do?" I asked.

He walked forcefully toward the window, pushing aside the curtains.

"Jump," he said simply, fixing me with a blank look.

I rolled my eyes, sitting up and watching him.

"You were the one that insisted on invading my privacy."

"You made a list of my friends," Paul said, smiling slightly.

"There are a lot of them. And they mean a lot to you, so I wanted to remember them all," I grumbled, wishing he hadn't seen it.

"You're adorable," Paul said, moving toward the bed. I turned away when it sank under his weight, but his hand pulled my face toward his. He kissed me slowly, his hot breath lingering on my lips before touching them. He pulled back, placing a trail of warm kisses down my cheek and neck, the touch of his skin burning in more ways than one.

"Adorable," he repeated. "Weird, but adorable."

I frowned, but he must've sensed my protest because he kissed me again. I forgot momentarily how to speak or think until he pulled away. I used the free moment to un-cloud my head and addressed the insult.

"Weren't you jumping out the window?" I asked, pushing him slightly.

He chuckled, shaking his head.

"Then who would make fun of you?"

I kissed his cheek and stood up, looking around for my suitcase.

"I have to take a shower now," I told him. "Try not to find any more embarrassing things in my absence."

I gathered up some clothes and turned to face him with a pointed look.

"I can't make any promises," he said with a grin.

* * *

Paul waited restlessly for Kris, wishing she would hurry. There were no magazines or even a TV in here, and he was easily bored. He stared at the ceiling for a while before he heard the door opening.

"Finally…" he said, but his words died as he saw Angela enter.

"It's just me," Angela said, giving him an apologetic look. "Kris said to bring you a snack."

There were no doubts that she was the girl for him.

He grabbed the bowl of chips from Angela's hand and stuffed a few in his mouth before addressing her awkwardly.

"Oh, thank you," he said through a mouthful.

Angela smiled at him before they lapsed into stiff silence. He liked Angela well enough, mostly because Kris was so attached to her. But she was so shy, and he wasn't exactly a great conversationalist. He looked around the room quickly, wanting to find a conversation piece.

"You're pretty…clean," he offered, almost smacking himself after he said it.

"Yeah I don't like clutter," Angela nodded, pushing her glasses up her nose.

"My room is a mess unless my mom attacks it with a Swiffer," Paul said, almost smacking himself again. When did he get lame?

Angela just chuckled though. At least she wouldn't point out his stupidity. He shoved a few more chips down his mouth, the crunching echoing in the air. Geez, put some music on or _something_…

He looked around again, but this time spotted a picture of her and Kris. It was drawn, pretty well from what he could judge about art. Hell if he knew anything though.

"Nice picture," he commented, breaking the tension. "Did you draw it?"

Angela's eyes flickered to the frame on the wall and shook her head.

"Kris did," she corrected. "A few years ago."

Paul was now suddenly curious as he took a second look at the picture. Kris did that? He didn't know she could draw, she had never mentioned it to him. For some reason, it bothered him that there were things about her that he didn't know.

"She never told me she liked art," Paul muttered, still staring at the picture.

"She hasn't drawn since her dad," Angela said quietly.

Paul felt his chest tighten at her tone.

"Her dad what?" he asked.

"Died," Angela finished softly. "She didn't tell you?"

"No."

Paul felt his head thundering rather painfully. His hands were shaking too. He could feel his nerves rattling, his anger growing. Angela was staring at him, her panic reminding him he couldn't phase here. She couldn't find out—how hard would that be to explain? He forced deep breaths and closed his eyes for a second.

"I'm sure she was going to," Angela said, slapping her head. "I shouldn't have said anything. It was a few years ago, and they were really close so she doesn't like talking about it that much."

Paul actually felt his stomach twist as he imagined her pain. He wasn't mad that she hadn't told him—it had been almost a month, yes, but he had learned a lot in that month. Of course, this was kind of a big thing.

"Hey guys."

They both watched Kris enter the room, hair dripping on the floor as she smiled at them. She loved when they were together—her two favorite people, so her happiness blinded the tension.

Paul watched her brush her hair and his eyes flicked back to the picture. Angela mouthed 'I'm sorry' to him, and he shrugged back to the best of his ability.

Okay, so they still had some new things to cover. He watched as Kris hummed and finished brushing her hair, and Angela slipped out of the room with a silent good-bye. He could be nonchalant about this. It could work.

"So who drew this picture?" he asked as casually as possible, willing his temper not to show for once in his life.

Kris turned to see what he was looking at, but he knew she must've known.

"Oh, I did. A little while ago," she explained.

"Wow you're good," he commented. She tended to make jokes when things grew serious, so he was trying to keep her comfortable.

"Thanks," she said, putting the brush down and coming to sit on the bed with him.

"Why didn't you tell me you liked to draw?" he asked, eyes turning to hers.

* * *

"I don't anymore," I said more sharply than I intended.

I looked at Paul, wondering why he was being so calm about this. I hadn't exactly told him about my dad. I had mentioned him in passing, but never elaborated on the story. Maybe was now the time to tell him.

"Why not?" Paul asked, ignoring my tone.

"My dad was an artist," I said softly, wondering how to explain. "It doesn't seem fair that I should keep doing something he loved when he can't anymore. It just reminds me of him too much."

"I didn't know him," Paul said, pausing. "But I'm sure he wouldn't want to waste your talent. Especially if you love it."

His hand found mine instantly, giving it a reassuring squeeze. I relished in the warmth, feeling like that was his way of urging me to continue.

"Maybe one day," I said, staring at our hands.

We lapsed into silence for a moment, but Paul broke it before I could.

"What was he like?" Paul asked.

I almost smiled, picturing my dad in my head. I had finally gotten past the pounding ache that accompanied memories, and now could think of them fondly.

"You would've liked him," I said, looking at Paul who was smiling slightly. "He was artsy, yeah, but his dad was always afraid that it made him not 'man' enough, so he was into a lot of other things. He loved sports too, and cars—he was working on this convertible before he died."

"Sounds like my kind of guy," Paul said.

"He was. He was so laid back, but he was really into the family. We used to take weekend trips all the time. And he didn't push art on me, even though he could've. He made sure I only did what I really wanted to do."

"How long ago?" Paul asked.

I noticed he didn't say 'since he died'. Somehow, it made the question more bearable to think about.

"Three years," I said, swallowing. "My mom married a year and a half after it happened, and had my brother two years almost to the day. I was really mad at her for a while…thought maybe she was just trying to get married to forget my dad. We didn't talk much the first few months of the marriage. I did everything to stay out of the house. But then my brother Brian was born… and Don has always been nice to me. It was hard to stay mad when my mom was finally starting to act normal again."

Paul listened to every word, not interrupting. He waited a few seconds to see if I was finished and squeezed my hand again. I squeezed back and looked at his deep eyes, which were absorbing everything.

"I hate when my mom dates," Paul commented, getting a dark look in his eyes.

"What happened to your dad?" I asked, figuring we had turned this into a father's sharing session. I had noticed he never mentioned him before, but didn't want to press the subject since he got angry quickly.

"He left when I was twelve," Paul said, his voice thick.

"I'm sorry," I said, moving a little closer to him so I could press myself into the crook of his arm. Somehow, imagining Paul hurt was worse than hurting myself. He immediately put an arm around me, pulling me close and kissing the top of my head.

"It's okay. Sometimes I think we're better off without him. But if I ever see his face again I'm gonna kill that son of a bitch."

I flinched at his anger, rubbing his arm which was trembling.

"How could someone leave their family? It was just a crazy idea to me," he said, nerves calming a little at my touch. "I felt bad for my mom. She didn't start dating until a few years ago. Of course, after I scared off the first two guys, she stopped introducing them to me."

I chuckled, picturing Paul being protective of his mom.

"What'd you do to them?" I asked with a smile.

"We just…_talked_," Paul said, clearly grinning.

We didn't speak much after that, but just sat in comfortable silence, thinking about everything. I was glad I'd told him—I hadn't really talked about my dad, outloud…ever. Telling the story was like lifting a weight off my chest.

"If you draw again, which you should, you should draw a picture of us," Paul said suddenly. "We're an insanely good-looking couple."

I rolled my eyes and laughed. He certainly could go from one mood to the other in a snap.

"What, you don't agree?" he asked.

"No, I do. People are jealous, obviously," I said, smiling widely.

"Of course they are. Now, this half of the star couple is starving. Does the other half want to go get something to eat?"

"She does," I said, standing up.

Paul grabbed my hand as we walked out of the room. I didn't quite know what it was—maybe knowing more about him, or feeling more comfortable every day, but it was a new feeling when we walked out of the house. Like I _belonged_ here. Fit right into Paul's life.

I tried not to think how empty my hand would feel when I had to leave.


	14. Chapter 14

New one, woop.

* * *

I was still clinging to my last moments of sleep when Paul's voice bombarded my drowsiness.

"Wake up princess!"

I stubbornly left my eyes closed, because it was after all, his fault that I was so tired right now. After my family celebrated July 4th, he persisted that we do something, so we ended up baking red, white and blue cupcakes which weren't finished until midnight. Afterwards, I watched him eat practically all of them and caught a few scraps for myself. Then Kim and I talked while we watched Paul and Jared nearly kill somebody with the fireworks they attempted to set off.

In all honesty, it was better than our family party. Of course, I loved my family, but I was nearly run over by my cousins with sparklers, I was pestered about Paul almost nonstop, and my Aunt Carrie tried to give me a new hairstyle which resulted in a lot of tangles and pain rather than any sort of productivity.

But really. It was ten in the morning and I was running on precious few hours of sleep. I didn't need a giant yelling in my ear.

"Krissss," Paul sang, kneeling on the floor. I could barely make out his face through my half lidded eyes.

"Go away ugly," I growled, turning away from him.

"It's not raining. It's Forks. It's beach time," he stated.

"It's early. It's Summer. I'm sleeping," I retorted, voice laced with grogginess.

"C'mon Kris. The birds are chirping, the sun is shining, and your pasty legs are blinding me!"

I turned back to give him the best sleep-induced glare I could muster. I was a little white, but not_ pasty_ thank you very much. It's not my fault the La Push gang were stupid tan monsters.

"I'm just saying you could use some sun," Paul grinned. "And if you don't come voluntarily, I'll have to take you by force."

I ignored him and buried my face back in the pillow, willing sleep to come back to me. I could still sense the sunlight in the room which didn't put me at ease…and neither did the sudden disappearance of my beautiful mattress.

I don't even think I bothered groaning or squealing as Paul carried me to the bathroom. I vaguely heard the twins ask him if I was dead, but he told them no before plopping me on the bathtub, lifting up my chin with his hand.

"You have fifteen minutes. I'm taking you no matter what you look like, so I'd get moving."

He gave me a sweet smile and kissed my forehead, closing the door behind him. I grunted a little and swung a punch in his direction, but he was already gone.

* * *

I was currently avoiding my annoying and sleep preventing boyfriend and talking to Kim and Jared. We sat on the sand and watched them absentmindedly, and I stretched out, enjoying the precious sun while it lasted.

I noticed Paul giving me a weird smile as I talked to his friends, and I knew it was because I was finally at ease with them. He told me last night how much he liked that we got along, which was sweet in a weird kind of way.

I watched the waves for a few minutes before Kim caught my attention.

"Okay, look now," she said, gesturing to Quil. "He just dropped that pretzel in the sand. I bet you ten dollars he eats it."

I watched him and shook my head.

"No bet. I completely agree with you."

We both watched eagerly as Quil looked around, and not seeing us, stooped down quickly to pick up the pretzel. He shook it a little and plopped it in his mouth before continuing to walk.

Kim and I dissolved into laughter as Jared returned from getting a drink, looking at us quizzically.

"What's so funny?"

We both shook our heads and smiled while he pouted. Kim stole a pretzel from him and winked at me while I laughed and dug my feet into the sand. Paul was busy tackling Collin, so I tried to ignore Jared's mushy comments from beside me. I was rescued by Seth who was now strolling toward us.

"Sam and Emily are coming today. You've never met them before," Seth told me, plopping down next to me on the sand.

"Cool," I said.

"More people to add to your list," Jared suddenly announced, grinning.

I froze momentarily, ears flooding red. Paul. Told. Them. Jared clapped my shoulder with a light hit and pinched my cheek. I turned even redder and looked at Paul who was busy in a victory dance.

Dance it up boy. In two seconds, you will be dead.

"Paul!"

Paul stopped and looked at me, his shoulders slumping at my tone.

"Yes beautiful?" he asked guiltily.

"You're dead!"

"What'd I do?" he asked with a sheepish smile, throwing the football to Brady and walking toward me.

"You told them! I can't believe you!"

"Told who what?" he asked, still clueless as Jared stifled laughter and Kim hit his shoulder.

"Sorry man," Jared said, smiling at Paul.

"What happened?" Paul asked, narrowing his eyes at Jared venomously.

"I may have mentioned the list..."

I turned a lovely shade of crimson once more (not my look) and narrowed my own eyes at Paul, crossing my arms. Okay, I got along really well with the guys, but that was personal and embarrassing. There was no need at all for it to be shared among them!

"It was an accident," Paul said immediately, stooping down to meet my eyes.

"How do words accidentally come out of your mouth?" I asked, still frowning.

"I didn't mean to tell them…they sort of just, got it out of me?" he said, more of a question than an excuse.

"Got it out of you? What were you, being interrogated? I doubt it," I said, fighting the urge to whack him in the crotch.

I noticed it had quieted down and now everyone was watching us. Oh great.

"It's not a big deal, Kris," Paul tried to excuse.

"Not for you," I said, shaking my head.

"I have an idea! Just tell us some embarrassing things about Paul," Jared suggested, grinning widely and clearly having fun with this.

"She wouldn't do that," Paul said, rolling his eyes and turning back to face me.

Wanting a little revenge, and to go against him right now, I smiled defiantly.

"Wanna bet?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

He gulped nervously, and nodded his head.

"C'mon Kris—"

"He believed in the tooth fairy until he was thirteen," I said, giving him a satisfied grin.

Paul blanched while laughter echoed around us, and narrowed his eyes at me playfully. His mouth opened and closed a few times before he suddenly thought of something to say.

"At least I'm not afraid of mascots," he pointed out.

I shuddered a little, racking my brain for other things to dig up. Everyone looked back and forth between us, so I felt a little under pressure.

"At least I wasn't afraid to eat watermelon because I thought it would grow in my stomach," I said with a smirk.

"Wasn't that in Rugrats?" I heard Seth ask, but Paul ignored him.

"I didn't think I had magic powers from ages seven to eight," Paul said smugly.

"I didn't cry at the Lion King..._yesterday_!" I retorted.

A few remarks were made but I could barely hear them. Paul's eyes locked on mine and his mouth curved upwards.

"Yeah you only cry at Extreme Makeover: Home Edition!"

"That's valid!" I cried. "Everyone get some tissues for Paul, here comes a stampede!"

"Says the girl with a Spider-man toothbrush," he said, crossing his arms.

"Says the boy with the crush on Wonder Woman—"

"Okay you two," Kim said, shyly holding her hands up. "I think Emily is putting out the food."

All the boys lost their concentration in us and patted Paul on the back as they rushed toward the lunch Emily was assembling. I heard a few 'nice ones' before they were all stuffing their faces. Paul watched them for a moment before turning back to me with a smile on his face.

I inched toward him before he took a few broad paces and picked me up, twirling me around.

"I'm still mad at you," I said, my voice muffled by his shirt.

"You can't still be mad, you just told them about my tooth fairy secret!" he cried, putting me back on the ground.

I pretended to think for a moment, before nodding slowly.

"You're right. Even?"

He outstretched his hand and we shook on it.

"Weirdos," I heard Jared mumble as the boys reassembled around us. Paul and I ignored him and sat down, his arm immediately finding its way around my shoulders. I leaned into the warmth regardless of the fact that I was already hot in the sun. The sacrifices I make.

Paul kissed the side of my head and we watched everyone eat like barbarians before I looked in the distance and suddenly had a thought.

"Hey I heard you guys go cliff diving sometimes," I said.

"Yeah," Paul said slowly, nodding.

"And it's supposed to rain later," I commented.

"Yeah," Paul repeated, raising an eyebrow.

"So right now is our perfect opportunity," I finished, smiling.

* * *

"I still can't believe you want to go cliff diving," Paul said incredulously, squeezing my hand.

I looked down at the ocean below, swelling and crashing against the cliffs. Suddenly, I wasn't so sure myself. But I wasn't going to let a little nerves stop me—plus I knew Paul wouldn't let me die. Well, I was _pretty_ sure at least.

"Why not, you don't think I'm fun?" I pouted, moving a little closer to the edge.

"You're fun," he said, pulling me back.

"But…" I said, trailing off.

"You know what, never mind."

"Wise choice. I didn't want to have to hurt you."

"You tell me that a lot you know," Paul pointed out, "And that you hate me."

"Do I?" I said, smiling slightly. "I'm sure you do the same."

"No way," Paul said, "I would never tell you that."

"Oh yeah?" I asked, peering over the edge.

He pulled me back again, forcing me to look into his eyes.

"Yup. Because I very much opposite of hate you," he said.

My heart suddenly felt restricted in my chest, but it seemed like a good thing for some reason. I couldn't say anything before he pulled me toward the ledge, giving me a smile before pulling us both over, never letting go of my hand.


	15. Chapter 15

Sorry for the delay, our internet wasn't working the past few weeks!

P.S. I'm sort of writing a Seth story, would anyone be interested?

* * *

Lily's birthday was in one week and she has so far requested one thing: me. She wanted me to go back to Seattle for her party and stay over, and according to her I better "bring pictures of my boy toy so she can soak in the gorgeousness."

I was trying my best to oblige her but Paul isn't the most patient picture taker.

That brings us to now.

"Okay, I'm going to count to three again—stop fidgeting."

Paul glared at me, shaking his head.

"I grasp the concept of _1, 2, 3_," he said, narrowing his eyes, "I don't like posing. I feel like a weirdo."

"Well there goes your modeling career," I said, frowning.

"That was just Plan B," he said sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

I started to look at my work so far, and realized that maybe I should have chosen a more natural setting.

"You know, you have a really great smile until I hold up the camera. Then it gets really forced and turns more into constipation," I said, scrolling over the last few images.

The camera tumbled out of my hand as Paul lunged at me, pinning my arms to my sides.

"I was kidding!" I yelped, but he knew I wasn't really, and he started to tickle my sides, a wide grin spreading across his face.

"If you'd smile like that w-we wouldn't have this—prob-problem," I said, choking out the words through my laughs.

Before he could say anything, a bright flash interrupted us.

We both craned our necks toward the light and it suddenly blinked again, rendering my vision partially spotted. After I blinked it off, Isaac laughed at me and put the camera down.

"I think that's a good one," he said, smiling.

"Can we help you?" I asked, laughing at him.

"We want to play video games in here," he said, giving me puppy dog eyes.

"Come back in ten minutes," I said, rolling my eyes.

He grinned and ran toward the stairs, presumably to tell his brother.

"Little creeper," Paul said, but I slapped him lightly and picked up the camera.

The first picture was nice in an indirect kind of way. I'm hysterically laughing and Paul is grinning so wide the corners of his eyes are crinkled. The second one made a smile appear on my face. We are both looking at the camera in surprise, but there is still a trace of the smile on both of our faces.

"These are actually the best two I've managed to get all day," I said, handing the camera to Paul. "Don't delete them," I warned sternly.

The camera was dwarfed in his large hands. It was funny to watch him try to handle it delicately, pushing the small buttons with his big fingers.

"People are going to think I'm constipated," he said sadly, looking at the pictures.

When he reached the last one, I planted a kiss on his cheek.

"We'll try again," I reassured him as he sighed. "And if not, I'll just have to find a photogenic boyfriend."

He started to glare again, but I picked up the camera, pressing the button before he could yell at me.

* * *

Aunt Mary was making dinner when I heard her voice waft through the upstairs. I let my hand glide on the wooden stair railing and avoided the creaky stairs, not wanting her to hear me and start nagging. I'd gotten in a little late last night, but thankfully she hadn't yelled much before bedtime. I still feared a few repercussions.

I reached the landing before I realized her voice was actually her on the phone. I turned to walk into the living room, but paused when I suddenly heard my name.

I couldn't make out much else, so I changed my direction and walked slowly toward the kitchen. I felt along the wall, careful to not knock over the pictures of Ang and the twins that were practically plastered on.

"I just don't know if it's best she stays here," I heard my aunt say, her frown practically palpable through her voice.

I felt my stomach drop at the thought of leaving so soon. It was barely the middle of July, and I was not ready to go. Why didn't she want me here anymore? I wasn't causing any trouble—I'd been trying to be on my best behavior…

I inched forward again, straining my ears toward the entryway.

"You should see them together, Alison."

Oh _great_. She was talking to my mother, the worrier extraordinaire.

"She's getting in over her head. She's too young for this kind of relationship—and in my house! Who knows what kind of trouble this boy is? You should see him, Alison, he looks like he's twenty five."

I heard her pause, probably to listen to my mother, and fought the urge to run into the kitchen and poke her in the eye with a sizzling fork. My heart already constricted on a daily basis at the thought of leaving in a month, and now she was trying to get rid of me _early_.

"I'm not saying she's not a smart girl, I'm saying that boys can sometimes make smart girls do stupid things."

Okay that's _it_. She doesn't even like me for god's sakes, she's just trying to make trouble. I hoped my mother wasn't paying too much attention. I'd have to remember to call her tomorrow and try to iron out her worries.

"We don't even know him that well. _She_ doesn't even know him that well. People talk about these boys, I've _heard_ it…"

She's heard it? Seriously? What were they, criminals?

"What're you doing?"

My heart leaped at the voice from behind me. I jumped and spun to see Angela looking at me with a curious expression, her eyebrows raised.

"I'll tell you later," I whispered, pulling her toward the living room, hoping Aunt Mary hadn't heard us.

Dinner was uncomfortable at best. Aunt Mary liked to sit at the table every so often, and today was one of those days. It was hard to sit there and make polite conversation when I knew what she was thinking and saying about me.

I nearly zoned out and passed out on my chicken, but Ang saved me with a pointed look and a pinch under the table. To keep up appearances, I mostly chatted with the twins about taking them to the zoo one day.

Finally, with a last scraping of forks and a last concerned look my way from my uncle, I excused myself.

I was pulling on my shoes when Angela came into the living room, looking at me with a worried expression.

"I thought we were hanging out tonight. Just us," she said, a glint of sadness in her eyes.

Guilt immediately welled up inside of me. I had completely forgotten our plans, something that had been happening all week. I couldn't cancel on her again, no matter how much I wanted to get out of this godforsaken house.

"I know," I lied, trying to keep my voice upbeat, "Do you want to go get ice cream? I need to get out a little."

I felt awful when she bought my lie and reached for her own black sneakers next to mine.

"Sure."

She was done in a few seconds and off to get the car keys from my uncle. I leaned against the wall, feeling the cool surface under my fingers and wishing I could talk to Paul and clear up a few things. I loved Ang, but I was itching to have some answers.

And then a thought struck me.

I suddenly saw a golden opportunity. _People talk about these boys_, my aunt had said. I couldn't very well ask her what she meant.

But I could ask Angela.

* * *

I licked the sides of my cone to keep the chocolate ice cream from completely invading my fingertips. I figured I would keep the conversation light for a few minutes before I divulged into my real plan. Angela was busy with her own melting cone, so I waited a few moments before talking.

"We should go shopping one day," I told her, eyeing my fraying jean shorts. "I don't think I brought enough clothes with me."

"You can pick some up when you visit Lily," Ang suggested, pushing up her glasses.

"That's true," I said, thinking of the close proximity between Lily's house and mine.

"But we can go shopping too. The girls love to go, and they'd probably love it even more if you came."

I smiled and nodded, thinking vaguely of her friends that I'd only met that one time. They were nice enough, at least to shop with.

"You look…distracted," Angela noted, taking a bite of her cone.

I looked down at my own, which was nearing the point of no return. I stopped neglecting it and avoided the question for a few moments, before deciding to dive right in.

"Your mom hates Paul," I blurted. "And me!"

Angela looked surprised for a moment, before she smiled softly in her all-knowing way.

"Why do you think that?"

"Because she told my mom she thinks Paul is bad news, and I should leave. What's up with that? Do other people think they're trouble too?"

Angela paused for a moment. I felt my stomach churn in tune with her nervous neck scratch and wondered why the hell no one had said anything before.

"What? What is it?" I asked, leaning forward and tossing my cone into the garbage by the table. This was far more important.

"People do talk about them, Kris, but you know them. It's not a big deal if you've never noticed anything, right?"

I looked at her with a confused expression.

"What do they say?" I asked slowly, thinking of the laughing group of friends and not knowing what people could possibly think was wrong with them.

"They stick to their own," Angela said with a shrug. "They're huge. They call themselves 'protectors'. There are a lot of rumors about them. Steroids, drugs...but you shouldn't pay attention to it."

I digested the information for a moment, thinking of Embry lighting up a joint. The thought made a small smile form on my face, and in turn caused Ang to stare oddly at me.

"Sorry," I said, shaking my head. "Why didn't anyone ever tell me?"

"You really like Paul, and if you didn't see anything wrong, I wasn't going to make you paranoid for no reason."

I nodded slightly, wishing I felt completely satisfied. But for some reason, I couldn't. My mind flashed with memories of Paul having 'guy time' at night, and never once explaining what they had been doing. He wasn't exactly lying, but he sure as hell wasn't telling the truth, was he?

"See? This is why I didn't tell you," Angela said, finishing her cone and placing her hand on my arm. "I didn't want to upset you."

"I'm not upset," I lied, shaking my head. "I just have a favor."

"Anything," Angela promised.

* * *

We drove slowly, parking a few feet away from his house. I just needed to see his face and remember that rumors were completely crazy and almost never true.

I had my hand on the car handle when we saw it.

Paul's window was the last one to the left, and no lights were on. I knew he was probably napping, because he tended to do that from about seven to eight so he would be "well awake for the good part of the night."

Yeah, I was dating a weirdo. At least I was aware of it.

But now, we saw a hulking figure walking out of the door. I noticed the muscles immediately and knew it was Paul. Paul shirtless that is. I had a mini lapse of brain power and stood frozen while he continued to stride toward the backyard. I decided to stay in the car, which he obviously didn't see, and focused on his fleeting form.

Before I knew it, he was simply running into the dark woods. Then, he was gone.

Angela and I shared a perplexed look as I relaxed against the car seat, mind racing.

"What was that?" I asked, scratching my head.

"I don't know," Angela said, pursing her lips.

We watched the space where he disappeared for a moment. I could still his silhouette blend away with the trees, his russet skin turning to bark turning to air.

I didn't know about Ang, but those rumors weren't sounding so far-fetched now.

Earlier today, it was like I had known Paul my whole life. But times like this made me realize that there were still a lot of things about him that I did not know.


	16. Chapter 16

New one! Reviews make me update much faster. And they're just plain lovely in general.

* * *

I sat with the phone to my ear, barely able to listen to my mother. Paul was going to be here in a few minutes, and I didn't know how I was going to approach the impending discussion I wanted to have. That's why my mother had been constantly repeating herself.

"So what do you think?" I heard her ask as my senses fizzled back.

I gaped for a second, finally able to utter out a "Huh?"

"Honey, you seem distracted today. That or I'm boring you to death, but we all know that's impossible."

I chuckled half-heartedly and switched the phone to the other ear.

"I'm sorry, I'm just sleepy," I lied, not wanting to elaborate. "You can go back to boring Don now."

"Very funny," she said dryly, "Why are you tired? Were you out late?"

I could hear the 'with Paul' in her sentence even though she didn't say it. I imagined my aunt in the kitchen complaining to my mother and rolled my eyes. I kept them fixed on Ang's ceiling for a moment before rolling on my stomach.

"No," I said, "And I know Aunt Mary disapproves, but you need to trust me Mom."

Even I could hear the lack of conviction in my voice, but I hoped for my mother's sake that I was imagining things.

"I do, Kristina. I've raised you to make smart decisions, so just remember that."

"I know," I sighed.

I paused for a moment. Back home, I could go to my mom with anything. But I weighed the options asking her for advice about Paul. So far, she'd only heard bad things about him, and I didn't want to further worsen her perception before they'd even met.

"Honey, is everything okay?" she asked, breaking the silence.

"Yeah, it's just...Paul. I feel like he's not being completely honest about something," I finally muttered.

"Well, just ask him Kris. If he's as crazy about you as I imagine, he'll probably come out with it," she said.

I pondered this for a moment. I guess she was right, there was no harm in asking. For all I know, he'd just been waiting until I asked, and it was no big deal after all.

"Okay, thanks Mom," I said, nodding slightly.

"No problem. I should go. I'll call you tomorrow. Go to bed early tonight—that's an order."

"Yes ma'am," I agreed. "Talk to you later."

I hung up the phone and rolled over to Ang's bedside table, glancing at the new alarm clock she put there. The gleaming red told me Paul was going to arrive in...

"Kris! Paul is here!"

...two seconds.

I scrambled up, fixing my white tank top which had wrinkled a lot since my nap. Oh well. I pushed back some stray hairs and started to walk toward the stairs, figuring my appearance was taking a backseat to the conversation.

I just hoped it would go well.

* * *

Status update: It did not go well.

My mom's advice had been a little out of date, it seemed.

Apparently, I was not Queen of the Conversation Transition. I was Queen of the Blurt it out and Make it Awkward Conversation.

And now, Paul was standing in the living room, looking livid among my aunt's floral furniture and picture frames of my cousins. It was weird to see him clench his fists in such a cheery looking room, and even weirder to hear him huff like he was some sort of a bull.

I immediately regretted asking about those rumors.

"Don't listen to everything you hear Kris," he told me, rolling his eyes.

But I pushed anyway.

"I wouldn't have to listen to them if you'd give me an explanation," I said, narrowing my own eyes.

In my mind, I flashed to last night and seeing him run away in the forest like some sort of escaped convict.

"So you believe other people instead of me?" he asked, a tremor passing through his body.

I watched as the shaking subsided and he clenched his teeth. A wave passed through my body, but it was more of nausea than anger. I had been told by Embry and Seth that he had quite a temper, but I'd never witnessed anything too bad.

"Well you're not exactly giving me a reason to believe you," I said desperately.

"You should just take my word for it," he said.

"And what exactly is your word? You're not saying anything, you're just going around the subject," I said, looking up at him for answer.

"Look, it's complicated."

"Talk slowly," I said sarcastically, glaring.

"I am going to tell you," he said, sighing heavily and running a hand over his face.

"When?" I inquired, crossing my arms.

"I will tell you, but not now," he said sharply. "I need better circumstances. I need you to not be yelling in my ear and pissed the hell off," he said.

I would have conceded if he didn't make me sound like such a bitch, so now I was going to keep going.

"So there is something to tell?" I asked, raising my eyebrows.

"Yes," he admitted. "But it's not what you think. And I wish you wouldn't listen to other people. You obviously don't trust me by this point or you wouldn't be asking."

"I do trust you," I said, lowering my eyes from his smoldering ones.

"Oh yeah? Then why are we having this conversation?" he asked harshly.

The will to explain myself outdid all my other instincts.

"Because my aunt thinks you're bad news!" I exclaimed, "Angela told me people talk about you, and I don't know what to believe when I see you running around at nighttime!"

"What were you doing watching me?" he asked, the tremor returning to his body.

"Visiting you? Sorry I didn't know I had to call so you could arrange another weirdo to run into the forest for you instead!"

He gaped for a second, his eyes surprised for a moment before they turned back to anger. My heart was pulsing now, but I was done with this conversation. If he wasn't going to tell me, there was no use to keep arguing.

I got up and walked toward the door, spotting my beat up Nikes. I shoved them on my feet without bothering to lace them and yanked open the door.

"Where are you going?" Paul thundered from behind me, his footsteps rattling the wooden floors.

"To run," I said, tying up my loose hair and not looking back at him.

"I don't want you to run, it's getting dark out," he said.

I almost laughed out loud. We were just screaming at each other, and now he expected me to follow his orders?

"Lucky for me, I don't always do as I'm told," I said, giving him a sarcastic smile before walking off the porch.

"Kris!" he yelled, his voice sounding pained and angered at the same time.

I rolled my eyes and started to run.


	17. Chapter 17

New one! Longer, better, reviewed?

* * *

The minute I got into the woods, I transformed. The tremors were coming quick and non-stop since the moment I escaped the house, and I couldn't even think about my mother complaining about me ripping another set of clothes. Red painted my vision, making me rip at the ground and everything around me.

I stayed in the woods, running and growling and tearing things to shreds. My mind was almost completely gone and taken with an animal's. I focused on the woods around me and the breaking of twigs and leaves as I crashed over them. I chased birds and ran and scraped against trees, trying to forget the past few hours by engulfing myself in my surroundings.

I didn't know how long I'd been gone. All I do know is that when I heard Sam's voice in my head, reality came back for a moment and I only felt worse about everything.

_Paul, it's Jared's patrol tonight_.

_I just wanted to let off some steam_, I excused.

_You promised Emily you'd be there for dinner. She wants to talk to you about telling Kris, _Sam thought in his commanding voice.

_I know how to tell her_, I said, growling. They all thought I wasn't going to be sensitive enough with the topic and I was basically going to fuck myself over.

_Do you blame us? That is why you're out here, isn't it?_

Everybody could go screw themselves, that's for sure.

_Just calm down and transform back. My house in twenty minutes._

I really hated having an Alpha sometimes, but my stomach was growling. At least I could take care of that.

* * *

Kris.

I liked the way the air burned my lungs. My legs had become accustomed to my runs at last, but if I pushed too hard my breathing always got the best of me. I slowed down now, trying to get full mouthfuls of air and slow down my heart rate. Sweat had gathered along my forehead so I wiped it absentmindedly, tracing my route back to Ang's house.

Runs were perfect in that lung crushing, mind erasing type of way, but I as I walked the last stretch home, thoughts came racing back. And endorphins couldn't even make me feel better about Paul's assaulting dark eyes.

I was halfway back and almost entirely oblivious when a black car started to pass me, slowing down. I heard tires crunching against the gravel and looked up.

In Seattle, this would have set my nerves on end, but here I just expected that I would know the person. And small town have it, I was right. Looking past the scuffed seats, a window rolled down and revealed a familiar face.

"Hey Kris," Embry greeted, smiling widely.

Even among my tired bones and still twisting anger, I couldn't help but let it drop for his innocent smile.

"Hey Em," I greeted. "Where you heading?"

"Sam and Emiy's. They're having an early dinner. You want to come?" he asked.

"Looking like this?" I asked, not bothering to mention the fight, "I don't want to scare everybody."

"You look fine. Just a little...shiny," he said, shrugging his shoulders.

I rolled my eyes and chuckled.

"It's okay. Paul and I kind of got into it before...and I have to go home and pack," I excused.

"Pack? Where are you going?" he asked hurriedly, looking concerned.

"It's my friend Lily's birthday. I'm going home for it," I said, resting against the car door and leaning in through the window. He had the air conditioner on and I craned so I could feel some of the cool air.

"Does Paul know?" he asked, raising a tentative eyebrow.

I frowned, wondering why he was taking such concern. Probably because he knew about his temper. Or he was freakishly nice.

"No, I forgot to tell him," I said, waving it off. "I'll text him later, I guess. Even though I will not be apologizing."

"What happened?" Embry asked.

I thought back to the fight, and how even the mention of rumors had sent Paul into a frenzy. Technically, Embry was included in that group. I didn't want to bring it up and make him angry too.

"I just feel like he's...lying about something," I said, choosing my words carefully. I had begun to cool down from the cold air blowing my way but was still aching for a shower.

"Oh," Embry said, sighing heavily. "Well I'm sure it will work out. It's just, well-I think you should tell him you're leaving. In person. He tends to overreact."

Embry looked so..._strange_ that I fought the urge to ask why he cared so much. I was a proud person and I didn't exactly want to show up at Emily and Sam's and act like everything was fine.

"I'm just gonna go home. Don't worry Embry, I'll tell him," I promised, backing away from the window.

"Please?" Embry asked, his eyes almost as convincing as Paul's.

I looked away from the deep brown quicksand and tried not to falter.

"It'll be awkward," I mumbled, scratching my neck.

"No problem," Embry excused, waving his hand.

"And uncomfortable," I added, trying to throw him off this idea.

"We'll look away," he promised.

"Very, very tense," I said, frowning for emphasis.

"We tend to be a tense group of people," Embry excused with a shrug. Before I knew it he was opening the car door. "You're family now. Get used to it."

* * *

Paul

Jake was whining, and I was seriously about to shove my foot in his mouth or somewhere much more painful. He was so hung up on Bella that I was contemplating throwing up and simultaneously throwing myself off a cliff. She wasn't even an imprint—try having one of those, buddy, and then you will see how frustrating things can really be.

"Just tell her, and then you won't have to keep worrying about it," Emily had said, patting my shoulder as she floated by.

"Rip it off like a band-aid," Jared said before jetting out to patrol. "If she's anything like Kim, she'll come around fast."

"She already loves you. She deserves to know everything," Emily continued, passing by me for the thousandth time.

I sulked in the corner, preferring not to talk to anybody. My fingers itched to go inside and call Kris, but I wanted to wait until she was done with dinner. It would only make things worse for her if I interrupted the meal and her already stick-in-the-butt aunt got mad at her.

So I ignored life until that safe moment. Unfortunately, my so-called friends have gotten used to my bettering temper and were not leaving me the hell alone.

I was vaguely aware they were talking about that pale Forks girl. I got a mindful enough of her when I was a wolf, and I really didn't want to think about her when I was in human form, thanks.

I heard names floating in the conversation and felt my teeth grind together just from the mention of vampires. I used to love the thrill of having them nearby, knowing I could have to drop and fight at any second. I still love a good fight, but now that I have someone to look after the mind numbing worry is sort of a package deal.

I tuned back into reality just at the wrong moment, and wished I had gone inside to make that phone call before they tried to rope me in.

"What do you think Jake should do?" Quil asked, trying to suck me into the mindless conversation.

"Get laid," I said, rolling my eyes and crossing my arms.

Jake sent me the harshest glare I've ever seen him give, and a low sound emitted in his throat.

"Shut up man," he said, tilting forward threateningly.

"Stop whining already. She loves a freaking blood-sucker. We don't want to hear about it. _You_ shouldn't want to hear about it, for god sakes," I said, not bothering to calm myself like I would if Kris were here.

"You can say whatever you want to me, but don't talk about her like that," Jake said, rising to his feet.

I got to mine too, shaking so hard I knew it was coming soon.

"What are you gonna do about it?"

"Don't get pissed about me because you're too scared to tell your girlfriend our secret," Jake said, clenching his fists.

"Imprint," I corrected lowly.

"So you admit you're scared?" he asked harshly.

"I am **not** scared! You don't know shit about what's happening!"

"I can see your thoughts man. She might take it bad. What's gonna happen?" he mocked through clenched teeth.

"Just shut up about it, both of you!" Quil yelled, but didn't even bother to get to his feet. I knew he didn't care too much because Claire wasn't here, and none of us had fought in a while.

I shook for about one more second before I changed and charged at Jacob Black.

* * *

Kris

I don't know if it was the family comment, or the pleading that went on for ten minutes afterward, but I sitting in the air-conditioned car, trying to calm my nerves. I wasn't worried about seeing Paul, it was just seeing Paul in front of everybody and trying not to argue even more with him that was the problem.

Embry seemed to overestimate my niceness, but he was really pushing the envelope with this. He is going to owe me a large favor in the future, thank you very much.

"I can only stay a little," I reminded him for the tenth time.

"Okay," he nodded, taking a left on the almost empty road.

"And 90% of my reason for going is Emily's cooking," I protested, crossing my arms.

"That's 100% of my reason," he said, grinning widely.

I chuckled and looked out the window. I was here for a month already and was taken away by the greenness of everything every single time I looked outside. There was something peaceful about living so close to nature that was lost in the city, even though I loved living there too.

Sam and Emily's wasn't too far, so when I caught my reflection in the side mirror, I decided it was best to at least try to freshen myself up. I wiped my forehead, now cool from the AC, and attacked my hair. It looked slightly like a raccoon had fallen asleep inside and clawed its way out, but with some fervent brushing and mending, it stayed in a messy, dark ponytail. There wasn't much to do about my clothes, so I just tried to straighten them a bit and make sure they weren't too wrinkled.

"You look fine," Embry said, seeing my movements from the side of his vision.

"Says one of the boys who walk around shirtless and ripped," I said, rolling my eyes.

"I wouldn't mind you walking around shirtless," Embry said. "I doubt Paul would allow it though."

I was shocked at this coming out of Embry, and snorted slightly, shaking my head. I guess even shy boys were still boys after all.

We were on Sam and Emily's street now, and I was reminded once again of earlier.

"I can only stay a little," I repeated.

"You've said that," Embry said, a twinkle in his eye.

When he stopped the car, I had the sudden feeling of walking into a lion's den. I moved as slowly as possible, undoing the lock and sliding to the floor. My sneakers landed in the dirt, and I turned around to close the door.

"A little slower, Miss Green," Embry said grinning and grabbing my arm.

I protested slightly, but it was no use so I let him pull me toward the backyard, where we could hear raised voices. I bypassed a couple weeded paths and sank into the grass, waiting for people to come into view.

When we got a little closer, Embry and I realized the raised voices weren't just conversations.

It was fighting.

I recognized Paul's raised voice immediately. Embry and I shared a worried look and jogged the last few feet into the backyard.

For a second, I forgot that I was even mad at Paul. With his anger directed elsewhere, I just wanted to go touch his arm and force him into calming down. I don't even think smolder was the right word for his eyes. They could have practically shot fire.

He was locked in a glare with Jacob, switching ever so often to Quil.

"Just shut up about it, both of you!" I heard Quil yell.

The words fell in the air and I saw Paul shaking like before, but ten times worse. Embry was trying to push me behind him, but I was pushing forward and saw it.

The tremors intensified, in both Paul and Jacob, and didn't stop. Their bodies shook and rocked and…_exploded_.

I stood in shock as fur covered both their bodies and the massive _things_ collided with one another. I blinked. I gaped. I felt my heart constrict and freeze and race. All other sounds were gone except the growling and ripping that emitted from the giant monsters that were seemingly trying to tear each other to shreds.

I felt Embry pushing me, away from the scene, away from the nightmare. I let him do it, but the image didn't fade from my mind. And the sound would never, ever escape.

I wasn't walking into the lion's den.

I was walking into a wolf pack.


	18. Chapter 18

I've been trying to make the chapters longer by request. :) 'Preciate.

* * *

I sat in my uncle's car and tried like hell not to throw up. I had to beg to go to Lily's because after showing up white-faced and shocked last night, I had to pretend to be sick. After packing ample medication and promising not to be reckless, I had somehow managed to get to this point.

All I knew was that I needed to get away from that place.

I popped headphones in my ears so I wouldn't have to talk to my uncle or even Ang who came along for the ride. She knew something was wrong with me. I had tossed and turned and heaved and rocked last night. I was running on maybe ten minutes of sleep and those ten minutes had been full of dreams of wolves.

Wolves.

Wolves!

I was shaking already. I didn't know what was happening. There was no way—just no way! La Push was a small quiet town, not a supernatural one. I would've chalked it up to some kind of hallucination had it not been for Paul's countless phone calls promising "an explanation."

You're a wolf. What's there to explain?

So for the past few hours I had been stuck in a state of disbelief, nausea, and a perpetuating feeling of fear and curiosity.

It consumed me.

After the initial 'what the hell' moment, I started to fear that it did make sense. The "hanging out with the guys" and the running into the forest. And the rumors. Those nasty rumors. What did I prefer, a man on steroids and drugs or one that could turn furry and ferocious?

I nearly slammed my head against the car window. I didn't know how much longer I could remain a stable, quiet person. I might have to scream in a second.

For one moment, I thought of Paul. My Paul, not Paul with fur and fangs. His stupid smile blinding me. It seemed impossible that the one I tripped a waitress with could have actually killed her out back with one swipe of a paw.

Did I even know him anymore?

Every time I thought of a memory, a large wolf walked into the scene and ruined everything. At the beach…a wolf there. In the car…a wolf running next to us. I couldn't even walk by the woods this morning. I felt like something was watching me, and in this case I knew what that something could be.

I thought of all the times I had kissed him. How even though he was so warm I practically started sweating, I still pulled him closer. How I couldn't even fit my arms around him but loved feeling the way his arms completely circled me. Was he a wolf all that time? Was I dating a myth in real life?

My insides twisted uncomfortably as I stared out the window, watching the first signs of Seattle come into view. I couldn't look at anything, the buildings, the gray sky, even the upholstery of the car, without my mind switching gears and focusing on Paul once again.

I saw Ang and my uncle talking in the front seat, smiling like they didn't have a care in the world.

I felt like an alien. I was somehow suddenly disconnected from a world that I once belonged a part of. Now I felt trapped in a secret I didn't understand and didn't ask to be a part of.

But there was no way to go back now.

* * *

Paul.

I couldn't sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Embry's gaze and shaking head, practically whispering to me when he spoke. "Kris was here," he'd said lowly, "She saw you transform."

I'd practically stampeded to her house but Ang informed me that Kris didn't want to see me right now. It took almost every once of my will power, but I left and decided to give her a night to digest the information. She was stubborn like I was, and if she didn't want to talk to me, she wouldn't talk to me.

After waiting as long as I could and damaging almost every item in my room, I went over the next morning. She was gone.

Her aunt coldly informed me that she was visiting Lily, and gave me a look asking why I didn't know this myself. I coldly informed her she could use some under eye makeup and maybe if she stopped frowning she could look somewhat decent.

I'd been lying in bed ever since. It looked like I'd been holding a thrashing animal in my bed the way the covers were twisted and nearly torn. My stomach had been in so many knots that I was even hungry. Me, not hungry. What was happening to me?

I was consumed with the idea of her not coming back. I needed to talk to her. I needed to explain. Imprints are imprints for a reason, but if I didn't smooth things over she might never be reassured and stay away from me.

The guys all tried to console me even though I'd just tried to rip Jacob's throat out. He didn't have any hard feelings when Embry had told us what happened.

I wanted to thrash out at everybody anyway for giving me those looks of pity. Emily had told me she would understand, but they didn't have to go through this. They didn't have to feel this worry that she might not come back, or the anxiety of not knowing where she was or what she was thinking. I'd already called her phone twenty times, and every time made the dread in my stomach weigh a little more.

When my mom came up to check on me, she gave me the motherly look of concern. I used to get it on a daily basis when I snuck in the house after patrol, but after some death threats and serious groundings, Sam had allowed me to tell her.

She took it better than Kris.

"Honey, how do you feel?"

I don't think I answered her. I barely looked at her, but I could feel her eyes as if they were radiating heat at me.

"Do you want lunch?"

I shook my head and stared at the ceiling, so ugly and white and perfect when I wanted to not think.

"It's three o'clock, you haven't eaten all day," she pushed.

"I'm not hungry," I said, rolling over to face the wall.

"Okay. I'll come back later to see if you've changed your mind. I love you sweetheart."

I knew she had good intentions, but sometimes good intentions are wasted on the miserable.

3:00. Just 3:00. I'd only been away from Kris for twenty-four hours even though I could bet it was months. I couldn't the feeling of bricks on my chest much longer, let alone if she didn't return.

A lifetime would be a death sentence.

* * *

Kris.

Ang helped me walk to Lily's even though I had only packed a small suitcase. I'd been so distracted I'm pretty sure all I had was a hairbrush and mismatched socks. Ang's eyes were gleaming with worry under her glasses, but I ignored it and kept silent. She, however, did not.

"Are you okay?"

I was sick of hearing that question, and sick of not being able to say no.

"I'm fine," I said, harsher than intended.

I kept my eyes on the concrete path and my familiar Converse scuffing the ground.

"Are you sure?"

I looked up to Lily's house, painted white and gray. Her mother wasn't much of a gardener, so there were more weeds than flowers. I smiled at the familiar mailbox that was shaped like a cow, and turned to face Ang.

"I got in a fight with Paul. It was bad, but I'll be fine. Don't worry about me, okay? Go home, go to the beach, make out with Ben—"

"Kris!" she interrupted, blush tainting her cheeks.

"Seriously, Ang, I love you but you're killing me," I said, trying to keep my voice at an even register.

"Okay, I'm sorry," she said, shaking her head. "I'll see you in a few days."

I hugged her and tried my best to smile. She turned around to walk back to the car and I faced forward to climb the stoop.

"You are coming back, aren't you?"

I heard Ang's voice behind me, quiet but still there. I hiked my backpack higher and took the next three steps, knocking on the door and pretending I hadn't heard her. When I heard sounds from the other side, I took a chance to glance backward.

Angela was climbing into the car, a frown on her face. But she still waved.

* * *

"Did Forks turn you into a freaking zombie?"

I looked up at Lily who was getting ready for her party. I was relaxing in her room, which we practically shared growing up. She hadn't changed the bright purple since she was eight years old, but she did get a new black bedspread and pushed a desk in the corner. I absorbed the things that were so familiar a month ago, but now it seemed like I was viewing a movie I used to watch every day.

"Sorry, I'm a little out of it," I apologized, rising from the desk seat. "Need any help?"

This was the last place I wanted to be right now, but she would've killed me if I didn't come. Being around a group of my friends and a few strangers was nothing compared to the night of reading and sleeping that I had planned if I was home.

"Could you find me a necklace?"

I trudged over to the wooden jewelry box her grandma had given her years ago. It was scuffed from falling over because anywhere Lily walked, things were bound to fall over. It wasn't because she was clumsy, it was because she was always late, and therefore, always in a rush.

I sifted through the silver chains and colorful beads to pull out a simple golden necklace with a heart on the end.

"Perfect," Lily said as I held it up.

She snatched it, her glittering nail polish flashing through the air as she put it around her neck. It dangled on the hemline of her purple dress as she tousled her hair once more and looked at me. She had gotten much tanner than I'd ever seen her. I knew it probably wasn't from the glorious sunshine we had in Washington, but probably more of a box radiating UV rays.

"Are you wearing that?" she asked, gesturing to my black shorts and ruffled high school "Seniors" shirt.

"Who am I trying to impress?" I asked, shrugging.

"You're right, you have Paul now," she said, chuckling and then straightening, as if remembering something.

"You have the pictures?" she asked, voice an octave higher than usual. "I want to see this boy!"

I didn't bother telling her we were in a fight, or whatever else I could have made up. That was code for 'Tell me everything' and quite honestly, I didn't know where to begin, what to leave out, or what to lie about. It was just better off pretending to be okay.

"Um, yeah," I said, reaching for my bag. The camera had been in there for days or else I would have completely forgotten about it. I sifted for a moment, accidentally pressing a button on my phone. **13 missed calls** stared accusingly at my face, but I pushed it aside and kept looking. I reached for the glint of silver but just as I got it out, it was being taken away.

Lily flipped the camera on, searching feverishly. I kept my eyes on her shimmering dress and not her face, but before I knew it, she was stopping abruptly, her mouth dropping to the ground.

"_This _is Paul?" she asked, thrusting the view finder into my face.

I looked at the picture, the one of both of us laughing on the couch, looking completely happy. It made my throat go dry.

"Yup," I nodded, not having the energy to smile.

"He's gorgeous! Oh my god…can I move to Forks with you? Seriously. He's huge too, you look like you're five years old next to him…"

"Thanks," I said flatly.

"But still pretty," she said, waving her hand. "You're so lucky."

Lucky.

Huh.

"Oh crap!" Lily exclaimed, looking at her silver clock. "People are going to be here soon! Help me get the snacks."

I obliged, thankfully burying the camera deep in my bag. It and the cell phone could really use some bonding time.

I followed Lily out of her room and down the carpeted stairs. Her mom was out, giving us privacy for her birthday. I sighed, but felt a little better as I remembered the curves and places of Lily's house. If anything, at least this party was a distraction. I could really use one of those right now.

Two hours later, I decided I was wrong. A bunch of Lily's soccer friends showed up, including Alicia. I have never liked Alicia, and now I do not like her boyfriend Alex. He smuggled in a bunch of beer and since then, I've lost Lily to dancing like an idiot, my other friend Sarah to a group of boys, and Sam, who I tolerate, to a slutty soccer player.

I was now being antisocial in a corner, trying to hide from Lily who had tried to make me dance with her at least three times already. She was all hair and hand movements, and I wanted to distance myself from that but still keep an eye on her.

I watched sullenly as I saw a flash of Sam's peroxide blonde hair grabbing the girl's hand. Her boobs were literally in my face and I was standing thirty feet away. I rolled my eyes at his shallowness, and looked away.

Unfortunately, people weren't picking up on my 'stay away from me or I'll hit you in the balls and/or face' signals. It must've had do with the alcohol or something, because four people had wandered over here and attempted to have a conversation. I wasn't usually so bitchy, but I think I almost made one of them cry. (So I told her her make-up didn't cover her acne and she shouldn't be so confident. Was that so bad?)

The second guy who came over, however, Mark or Matt or something, came back even after being wounded. And he looked significantly more wasted this time, with his flannel shirt unbuttoned halfway and his long dark hair a mess. I focused on his slightly far apart eyes which danced uncertainly.

"Why don't you like me?" he asked, hanging forward so I could smell his awful, beer soaked breath.

"Listen Matt—"

"Chris," he corrected.

"Whatever. I have a boyfriend," I said, as forcefully as I could under the circumstances.

"You don't sound too s-sure about that," he said, looking around for a place to sit.

"Well, even if I didn't, nothing would be happening with you," I said, smiling sweetly.

"Feisty," he commented. "But I'm great to _talk _to," he said suggestively, wagging an eyebrow.

I made a disgusted face and made to get up, but he grabbed my arm and pulled me closer.

"Your boyfriend must not be that serious if he's letting you go to parties alone. C'mon, he's not here. What's he gonna do?"

"He may not be here," I said with clenched teeth, "But I will still hit you where the sun don't shine."

I wrenched my arm away and fixed him a deathly stare.

"If you wanted to see the fellas, you could've just said so," he said, almost spilling his drink on me as he leaned forward again.

I almost threw up in his face. For one second, I let myself think of Paul, and wondered what he would've done to him. Punched him in the face probably, or the stomach, or anywhere he could reach really. Now that I would've liked to see.

Instead of retorting, though, I got to my feet and walked back toward the house.

"Aw, don't be like that!" he cried after me.

He grabbed my arm again. Persistent little twit, I'll give him that. But I so was not in the mood, and coupled with everything that was happening, I did something I've never done before.

I swung back and clocked him in the face.

It hurt my hand like hell, but it just felt so good to release some of my frustration on someone who so deserved it. Matt or Chris or whatever the hell his name was dropped his red cup which spilled pathetically on his shoes and clutched his nose. His far apart eyes grew wide and I thought he would take a swing at me but when he moved forward he could only stagger.

"You bitch!" he cried, his voice muffled through his hands.

I ignored him and walked away, not bothering to address Sarah whom was staring dumbfounded at me, or a group of guys that were cheering me on. I glanced over to Lily, but she was oblivious and drunk, and I would just have to get her later.

I walked toward the house now, almost smiling. If Paul, regular human Paul, was here and he'd seen that he might be mad that he didn't get to punch that kid, but proud that I had done it. But I wasn't thinking about him, was I. I just couldn't seem to stop. I pushed aside the glass sliding door and passed two kids rooting around in the fridge. I didn't bother yelling at them, just high-tailed it back to the stairs and literally ran into Lily's room.

I kicked aside a blanket on the floor and swiped away the mound of clothes she had on the bed. I collapsed into it, nearly knocking my bag over. I breathed in and out a few times, taking in the smell of her perfume instead of sweaty drunk boys, which was nice. I grabbed my bag and pulled it closer.

I sat still for a few moments, trying to control myself. But then I remembered I didn't have much self control. I reached for my phone, wondering why I didn't just bother turning it off. I grimaced at my bruising hand, but forgot about it the minute the screen lit up.

This time, **20 missed calls** met my eyes.

It didn't make me feel worse, but it certainly didn't make me feel any better.

This weekend wasn't helping me clear my head. In fact, I felt much more confused than I did this morning.


	19. Chapter 19

Thanks to the reviewers, you make me smile, you rock, all that jazz, keep it coming. :)

* * *

She had shiny black hair. Her eyes were big and green and framed with thick, dark eyelashes that looked straight out of a mascara commercial. Her hair had a gentle wave to it, and her mouth was splattered with pink lip gloss that shone when she talked.

I saw him coming up behind her and look straight through me, as if I wasn't there. His huge hands clasped her tiny waist and pulled her toward him. I watched her stupid shiny lips turn into an "Oh" of surprise, and then her pearly white smile broke out.

He spun her around, her pink skirt twirling in the air as she landed against his chest. I felt a sickening tug on my stomach as she inched closer to his face. Her hands, thin and bony, clasped either side of my boyfriend's face. And then he leaned in.

I let out a cry as their lips fused together, wondering what the hell was happening. Paul had seen me! He knew I was here, why was he doing this to me? And then I realized that I was the one who left.

They broke apart at my cry, the girl looking toward me as if she'd just realized I was there. Her lip gloss was ruined, but her eyes told me she hadn't lost any confidence in the world. They held only surprise and no concern.

Paul looked at me too, his hair ruffled and her stupid color still on his lips. But instead of looking sorry, he simply shrugged.

Before I knew it, I was running away. My house was only behind me for some reason, and I scaled the steps in a matter of seconds. I entered my house, almost tripping on our welcome mat and heard a noise beside me.

I saw my mother on the couch, in the same sweatshirt she'd worn for weeks after my father died. It was one of his, gray and splattered with paint. Her head was in her hands where I heard the sound of muffled sobs.

I'd come home to this scene a lot of times before.

She'd lost him, just like I lost Paul. Only I hadn't lost him. I'd given him away. She looked up and beckoned me into her arms.

I woke up with a choke, clutching my chest and nearly forgetting where I was. It came back once I looked over at the purple blob next to me. Lily was still in her dress, splayed across her mattress with the covers I'd thrown over her now draping across the side of the bed. I was sleeping on the floor as I had the last month at Ang's, but without an air mattress my limbs felt stiff and sore.

I still felt halfway in a dream as I clutched my blanket closer to me, even though I was practically sweating. I just wished Paul was here, with me, to comfort and reassure me that would never happen.

But it was my fault he wasn't here. Every time I forgot, I had to remind myself that I was the one that would have made the bad things happen.

He was a wolf. A wolf. Why the hell wasn't I running in the other direction? Why did I miss him so much?

I pushed it out of my mind unsuccessfully. I heard Lily snore and move in her bed and I threw the covers off of myself, my hand throbbing suddenly. The events of last night flooded back when I flexed my aching fingertips. They were already bruising.

I pushed myself off the floor and decided to get dressed. I reached for my black bag tentatively, using my good hand. It was slumped against the ground and I rummaged through it for a moment, frowning. I only had a brush, camera, phone, and socks. I looked down at my outfit from last night, which was wrinkled with sleep and had a little bit of drink on it from a drunk passing by.

Fan-freaking-tastic.

Lily was about five inches taller than me, so I didn't take a chance on any of her clothes. My house was only a five minute walk from here, so I decided just to go get some of my stuff and come back before Lily was even awake. Just in case, I scrawled her a note on her swirly 'L' stationary and left it on my pile of blankets.

I crept silently down the stairs, knowing that there weren't any that creaked like my house. Lily's mother had remodeled a few years ago, after her dad moved out, to "rid the air of him." It basically resulted in a clash of color and style because she could only afford to do half the house, but the stairs had received top treatment with new wooden boards and all.

I looked around to see if her mother was awake, but I couldn't smell any coffee so I knew she wasn't. I slipped on the sandals I had left at the door and opened it, immediately noting the still darkened sky. I patted my pocket to make sure I'd taken my phone, and once I realized it was there, I set off.

The air was cooler because it was still early. I breathed it in heavily, noting that it was thicker than the air of La Push. I never noticed before I had stayed there. I kept my feet on the sidewalk and tried not to think of anything, but I was haunted with shiny lips and the cold, indifferent look in Paul's usually passionate eyes.

I didn't want him to look at me like that. Ever.

Even though I was scared, it was like I was drawn to him. I didn't want him to be with anyone else, even though I had run away. How selfish was I? I was frightened by the concept of him, even though deep down I knew he wouldn't hurt me. Hell, he tried to throttle anyone that did.

But what if he lost his temper? It would only take one time, one freak accident, right? Some people had a dark side, but he had a _furry_ dark side, and that just seemed like it was begging for something bad to happen.

The thoughts left for a moment when I reached my house. I smiled at the faded blue that my father had painted himself, right down to the small white flowers on the shutters. The flowers that my mother planted in the boxes every Spring were alive and well, their pinks and yellows contrasting against the pastel look of the house. I was surprised they had lasted even though we were away—the rain must have been keeping them alive.

I was reminded vaguely of my dream as I walked up the stairs, but I tried to push it away as best as I could. I searched the stoop for the plastic mushroom in our flower pot and lifted the lid. I scooped out the dull gold key and inserted it in the door. It didn't open. I frowned heavily, turning the knob. I had locked it. Which meant it was open already. Did we forget to lock up when we left?

I used the key to open the door again, pushing it open and hoping like hell our stuff wasn't stolen or ransacked. I closed my eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath and then looked around.

The dark blue sofa was in tact. Our television, stand and all, was still against the far wall. Our portraits still lined the brown walls, and every accessory was in place. Relief flooded me, and I was glad I got here before my mom did or she would not be very pleased with me.

I put the key on the coffee table and was halfway across the living room when I paused, hearing a thump. My thoughts instantly flashed to when I thought someone was breaking into Ang's house. But that had only been Paul. And at least I had a bat.

I looked around, digging for my phone in my pocket. Should I call the police? Lily? Ang?

Paul's voice echoed through my head_. __If you think someone is breaking into the house, you go upstairs and call me._

I didn't have time to call anybody though. I heard footsteps descending the staircases, ours creaking unlike Lily's. Whoever it was was about to come into view, and I contemplated facing them or jumping to hide behind something.

Too late.

I saw a shoe first, a black sandal. Then a leg, a pair of black shorts, and finally a gray T-shirt. I had my hands raised when the face came into view, a curly bun and a pair of dark, worried eyes.

"Mom?"

* * *

My mother had a telltale sign for when something was wrong. She made tea. She made me tea when I was sick, when I was nervous, and when she had to tell me bad news. Since the first two were not applicable, I knew it was the third and I stared at my pale pink cup anxiously.

She frittered about our pale yellow kitchen, her worried waxen face almost blending into the walls. She sifted through our utensils, finally drawing out a spoon and handing it to me slowly. I watched her in worry, wishing she would just sit down.

She continued to rummage through the cabinet, for what I don't know since she'd already given me milk and sugar and even a napkin. I heard the noises of boxes hitting against each other, jars being looked through. I stirred my tea slowly, taking a small sip before looking at the small hurricane that was my mother sweeping through our house.

"Mom?" I asked tentatively.

The noises stopped for a moment before she turned to look a me.

"Yes?"

Her eyes looked red and bloodshot, like she hadn't gotten sleep in weeks. I pushed my other problems out of my mind and felt selfish for not calling more often, for not knowing what was happening in my own mother's life.

"What's wrong?" I asked, the same question that had came out of my mouth the moment I saw her. "Why aren't you in New York?"

She sighed heavily, like a balloon was deflating in her chest. She quietly closed the cabinet, her eyes falling from mine. She crossed the space like a ghost, barely hovering over the ground before she slid into the chair opposite of mine.

"I'm sorry," she said, shaking her head.

I hadn't seen my mother look so run down since my father died. I felt my stomach turn unpleasantly and grabbed her hand. It was the look on her face that was so eerily like my dream that made my hair stand on end.

"Why?" I asked.

"Because I lied to you," she said. "We never went to New York."

I thought of all our phone conversations. How she said my brother loved Central Park. About how she claimed to be bothered by all the noise.

"Why?" I asked, feeling slightly betrayed. My mother had never lied to me before, at least not something this big or something I had found out about.

"Don is sick," she said, spitting it out like she wanted to be rid of the sentence as quickly as possible.

I frowned for a moment, thinking of my step father. He wasn't my favorite person in the whole world, but I'd never wish anything bad on him. Especially since he made my mother become a normal person again. I owed him decency for that at least.

"How sick?" I asked, swallowing painfully.

"He has cancer," my mother said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Why didn't you tell me?" I asked, biting my lip. My mind was struggling with feeling hurt with feeling guilty and sympathetic, and it didn't know which way to lean.

"I wanted you to have a normal Summer before college. I didn't want to feel obligated to stay home or miss out on anything," she explained. "And I hoped that after the Summer Don would be in remission," she added hopefully.

"Is he doing better?" I asked, seeing the first spark in her eyes since I got here.

"The chemo seems to be working, but sometimes I just can't stand to see him like that," she said tiredly.

I nodded, as if I knew, but quite honestly I didn't. At least my father never had to suffer through anything as we watched him deteriorate.

"You could have just told me," I pushed.

"I know, I know," she said, waving her hand. "But you would have stayed. You would have wanted to help. I wanted you to have some fun and then go to school. But…oh Kristina, I'm so sorry…"

She choked on her last word and her eyes filled. She drew her hand away and covered her face once more.

"What?" I asked, my voice slightly higher.

"I just wish you weren't going so far! I want you to do what you want, but I'm going to miss you all the way in New York."

I frowned. I hadn't thought of New York all Summer. I hadn't even told Paul that was where I was going to school. I knew it was quite a distance from Seattle. I thought I would come home Christmas and Summer, but now that we were spending money on medical bills, how would I get home? I certainly didn't have that much of my own money.

"I don't have to go right away. I can take a year off," I suggested, shrugging.

"No, no," she said, shaking her head. "I can never ask you to do that. I'll find the money somewhere, and you will go to NYU," she said determinedly.

I felt my stomach fall as if I was on a rollercoaster. I had gotten a scholarship, yes, but not a full one. It never occurred to me that she wouldn't be able to pay my tuition. I couldn't ask her to get loans and scrape together when she was trying to pay for Don's treatment. What kind of person would ask their mother to do that?

"I'll figure something out," I said, grabbing her hand and squeezing it. There was no need to burden her right now.

She squeezed back, her lips finally forming the smallest of smiles.

"You're such a good daughter," she said, "Your father would be so proud of you."

I smiled a little, letting go of her hand.

"I never got to ask you," she said, looking at me curiously. "Why are you home?"

"I was visiting Lily," I said, my mind finally sliding back to thoughts of Forks and La Push and Paul.

"Well it's a complete mess here," my mother said apologetically. "But you should definitely stay the night before you go back."

"But Mom—"

"No buts," she said, shaking her head. "You're going to finish the Summer with your cousin and your boyfriend. I know how much you like him, even if I've only heard you through the phone," she said, patting my cheek affectionately.

I scratched my neck. I didn't want to argue with her, at least not now. And I suddenly knew that no matter what I decided about Paul, I couldn't simply leave it like I had. Running away didn't seem like an option.

"Where's Brian?" I asked. I wasn't used to being home and not hearing him somewhere.

"Sleeping, finally," she said, shaking her head. "Now, go to your room and get some clothes. You look like a mess."

I chuckled slightly, glad that my mother was still in there somewhere. I put my tea cup in the sink and walked across the living room to the stairs. My mind was buzzing now with everything I'd learned today—Don, my mother, Paul, New York…

My mother had already lost one husband, it just didn't seem fair that she had to go through this. It made my problems seem insignificant. I had my fair share of weird dilemmas sure, but it wasn't a life and death situation. I could have what I wanted, it was right before me.

I entered my blue bedroom, my drums gathering dust in the corner. Instead of going to the dresser, however, I collapsed on my bed, inhaling the vanilla that my mother always sprayed on the sheets. It helped clear my mind a little, but certainly not enough.

When did my life become this crazy? Last July, by biggest problem had been finishing my Summer reading book. Now, I was dealing with a worried mother, a sick step father, an oblivious best friend, and a concerned cousin.

Oh, and don't forget the biggest problem of all…the boyfriend. The boyfriend that came with the secrets, and the craziness, stomach aches, and the confusion.

It seemed like an awful lot of baggage for one person, but as I lay there, only one thought explained it all:

That's what you get for loving a freaking wolf.


	20. Chapter 20

Yay! Reviews are the sprinkles on my sundae.

* * *

I looked around my room and felt at ease for the first time in a few days. My favorite picture of all time, a close up shot of my dad and I, was plastered to the wall next to my bed. A couple of paintings he did were hung up too, and one or two that I had done which paled in comparison. My drumset was gathering dust in the corner, and I resolved to clean it soon.

I let the pale blue relax me and sat on my black and white floral bedspread. But it was hard to relax when I knew my mother was getting in the car to go to the hospital, when I knew that somewhere Paul was either moping or seething in anger, and Ang was probably worried.

It was late at night, I could judge from the darkness seeping in through the windows. I'd spent nearly the entire day with my mother, and after apologizing to Lily and explaining the situation, she'd stopped whining and accepted my impending departure.

I leaned back and settled against the pillows, suddenly feeling drained and sleepy from everything that had hit me today. Brian was miraculously still sleeping so the only sounds I heard were the tick of the clock I kept near my bed.

I let the sound lull me into a daze, and before I knew it, I was falling asleep.

When I woke up, I heard Brian's piercing cry ring through the house. My mother told me he woke up around twelve every night, and as I glanced at my clock, I realized she was right.

I rolled onto my side, trying to block some of the noise out, but it was no use. I suddenly felt alert and awake, and there was no going back.

I turned back to lie flat and stare at everything in the darkness, the smallest light from the window crack giving everything an eerie silhouette. I reached over to my right and groped for the lamp switch, which I fumbled across eventually. It cast a dim light over my bed, and I frowned at my even more wrinkled clothes and now messed up bedspread.

I didn't have any bad dreams this time, but I didn't have any good ones either. And I think I knew the reason why.

I made it to about twenty seconds before my hand found my bag.

I dumped the entire contents on my bed, chapsticks rolling across the fabric and my phone and camera landing not so gracefully beside them. I picked my way through a few gum wrappers and inched toward my camera, turning to my last pictures.

It only took one second, one picture, before I dropped the camera and picked up my phone.

My mother didn't have a choice about what happened to who she loved. I did. And it made all the difference.

I dialed the well-known number and pressed the phone close to my ear, as if it would suddenly slip away if I didn't hold on tightly.

I listened with bated breath. One ring. Two. Three. Four.

With every ring, a small pain shot through my stomach. I wasn't sure what I wanted to happen. Was I glad there was no answer?

When I heard the voicemail start up, I pressed the red 'end call' button and almost threw my cell across the room.

What did I think? That he would be waiting anxiously and ignoring his whole life? That the moment I decided to finally answer his many missed calls, he would miraculously forgive my intolerance?

My fears were silenced by a thick vibration that rocked my fingertips. There was no quicker way to press the answer button.

"Hello?"

"_Kris_."

The voice sounded distant, slightly frantic, and just a little relieved, like he was sighing and his mouth suddenly formed a word.

My name. It was just my name. But when your name is said a certain way by a certain boy, it can be the greatest thing you've ever heard.

"Can you come pick me up?"

* * *

Paul had phased in and out so much the past two days, he was sure he was going to become stuck as a wolf one of these times. His anger and bitterness probably would have kept him permanently there if he didn't force himself to calm down every once in a while, just in case she called.

So far she didn't.

He pushed aside the half eaten sandwich his mother had literally shoved down his throat before. Food didn't taste right when there was so much else bubbling inside of him.

The guys had been over, or heard his thoughts in wolf form, and they tried to reassure him. He could give a shit what they thought, though, because all he cared about was talking to Kris and he didn't need to talk about his feelings or his goddamn problem thank you very much.

He shuddered slightly as he thought of the night before, when he had tried seeing if Kris had returned to the Weber's.

The look in Angela's eyes were enough to confirm what he was dreading: that she didn't know when she was coming back.

He rolled onto his back, a position he had come to favor. The ceiling was better than having his face pressed into sheets that had started to smell like sweat, and he liked how it was empty and didn't remind him of anything.

That wasn't to say that he could easily drift off into a barren wastleland—no, of course not. His brain was constantly firing memories of Kris at him, not always concrete but sometimes abstract things, like a whiff of her shampoo or the feel of her cool skin against his.

He'd never lost a fight, but what he wouldn't give to be knocked out right now.

"Paul!"

The voice was shrill and so obviously belonged to his mother.

"Yeah?" he mumbled, purposely low.

"You can ignore the world sweetheart, but I am your mother and I will not let you ignore me," she said.

She was speaking through the door he locked the night before. He'd felt a little bad about doing it, but after a few not so pleasant conversations he had no regrets.

"If you don't come downstairs and eat with me, I will find a way to force you to. And I don't want it to come to that."

He rolled his eyes. As if his hundred and ten pound mother could take on an oversized, angry teenager.

"I'm just going to stay here," he called, having no will to sit there and force conversation with her.

"I have the keys to this room mister!" she called.

"Then use them!" he shot back, not in the mood.

He thought she was bluffing, but a major _Oh shit_ ran through his mind when he heard the sound of the knob turning.

His mother, in her five foot four glory stood with her hands on her hips, her hair pulled tightly back, and a scowl on her face.

"You'll thank me when you're older," she said, walking pointedly to his bed and pulling his ear.

"Ow!" he cried, but it was no use.

He was too stressed to care, too stressed to really fight back.

"We're going to sit down and eat like a family," she ordered.

"Dysfunctional family," Paul muttered, following her at the slowest pace possible.

"Family means forcing you to do things you don't want to do for your own good," his mother snapped before she began to descend the staircase. "And take a shower for god sakes, sweetheart."

He grumbled but decided not to say anything else.

"I'm not trying to irritate you, Paul," his mother said, pointing to the kitchen table which he promptly sat at. "But in case you never noticed, my relationships aren't really a walk in the park."

He frowned, feeling the familiar wave of heat that accompanied a transformation. He pushed it down, along with the image of his father.

"Maybe our family was meant to be left," he said pathetically, without malice or really any intent.

His mother almost dropped the tray of pasta she was holding, and her glare could've melted him.

"Don't say that Paul."

Her voice was sharp, and made him look away.

"I know you. And I like to think I know Kris. And you know what else?"

"What?" he asked, looking up at her.

"Your phone is ringing," she said, a small smile on her face.

* * *

I love that he didn't ask questions. I flipped on our outdoor light and let the moon do the rest of the illuminating. It was the middle of the night, and I had hoped he'd be here by now. My mom was back home, sleeping obliviously in her room. I'd explain in the morning, but right now I was only focused on one thing:

The road.

I wasn't sure what to expect when I saw his car, or what I was supposed to do. I gulped down a lot of worry and a little bile as he barely stopped the car before jumping out. I'd never seen him move as fast as he did toward our door.

I opened it slowly, taking him in. He paused when our eyes met, his usual confidence replaced with hesitation.

He was wondering if I was scared of him.

I thought I would be.

His eyes were buried in his eyebrows, so knit together that they were even darker. His clothes were messy, wrinkled, similar to mine. I almost smiled when I realized he wasn't wearing shoes.

But I wasn't concentrated on those things. I wanted to pay full attention to everything I felt. And so far, I could get past the thudding heart and the twisting stomach, because I usually felt those things anyway. I suddenly knew without a doubt that wolf or not, this kid wasn't going anywhere.

He stepped forward slightly, his eyes asking me permission.

In one fluid moment, I opened the screen door and collapsed into him. He pulled me up before I knew it, crashing his lips against mine with such force that it practically hurt.

But I didn't care.

I knew anyone watching would wonder why two people only separated for two days were acting like a dramatic movie love scene. But it didn't matter to me what anyone thought.

I suddenly wanted to be as close as possible to him. To fill any space or crevice that was between us. I had fistfuls of his shirt in my hands as his warm embrace encircled my lower body, holding me up. His mouth was warm and inviting and demanding, unleashing a weekend of worry and defeat.

We moved together, our lips and tongues and hot breath doing the talking. But then, for one second, Paul was doing the talking of his own.

"I love you."

It was simple and I had felt it, even before he had said it. But the way he said it, low and husky and with a smoldering gaze, I became completely and utterly useless, a body without control or focus or use of words.

I answered with my mouth instead, and I hoped he could feel it back.


	21. Chapter 21

Kinda mushy...but everyone's entitled to some mush sometimes, right?

* * *

After asking my mother twenty times if she needed me to stay, I had traveled back to Forks with Paul permanently attached to my hand.

I could tell there was a slightly uneasy air between us. It wasn't angry or awkward, but we both were still re-adjusting to what had happened and I knew it might take a little while to get back into our groove.

Right now, I was sitting at his kitchen table. For some reason, his mother had just suffocated me with a hug and choked back a sob before Paul asked her, impolitely, to leave. She left us in a rather clean and airy kitchen, with Paul rocking the wooden table with his bouncing knee.

"What's the matter?" I asked, noting his nervous habit.

His eyes met mine and his hand reached toward the one I had in my lap. I intertwined our fingers while he looked at me.

"Well, I didn't get a chance to explain. And I know you're probably full of questions," he said, searching my gaze for a sign of curiosity.

"Well...you can transform into a wolf," I said, the words that I'd been thinking for the past few days finally out in the open, where they were met with a nod.

Who'd have ever thought I'd be saying that sentence and not being immediately transported to a psychiatric ward?

"Yeah. When we get really angry, we can't control it. Which is what you saw the other day."

"So the moon has nothing to do with it?" I asked, frowning. "Harry Potter really failed me in that department."

Paul chuckled and rolled his eyes.

"You _would_ make a Harry Potter reference in a serious conversation," he scoffed.

"Whatever wolf boy," I said, rolling my own eyes.

"So...all the boys too?" I asked. "Even Embry?"

"You know sometimes I think you like him better than me," Paul said, frowning heavily.

"Sometimes I think that too," I said with a smile while he growled. "Easy boy," I said, patting his hand.

"All the guys are in the pack, and Leah, Seth's sister. It's because of the vampires—"

"Woah there, back up!" I cried, a new wave of surprise overturning my stomach. "Vampires?"

"Don't worry, I'm built to kill them. I'd never let them hurt you."

"Do I know any?" I implored, leaning closer to him.

"I wouldn't let one within a thirty yards of you," he growled, shaking his head. "But you know Bella?"

"I've heard Jake talking about her," I said, thinking of the dazed look on Jacob's face when he mentioned some girl from Forks. I noticed Paul always tensed just the slightest when she was brought up.

"Well she's dating one of the Cullens, this family of bloodsuckers," Paul finished.

I shuddered, wondering if it was hypocritical. She was dating a vampire, but I guess I was dating a shapeshifter. At least mine wasn't a wolf all the time, just when he was super angry...so about half of the time.

"They stick to the treaty though, so we haven't had any major problems," Paul added, seeing the tumultuous look in my eyes.

He studied me for a moment, and I tried to seem contemplative instead of shock absorbing. I wasn't sure how great it was working because he was looking more concerned with each passing second.

"You're okay with it?" he asked finally, the words landing heavily in the air the moment they left his tongue. I let them dangle for a few seconds, gathering their weight and seeing how they felt in my own mind.

"Yeah," I responded, squeezing his hand. "Commit me now."

"There's one more thing," he cut in. "Well, there's actually a lot of things, I'm sure, but this one is kind of important."

More things? What more could there be—wasn't this enough to take in?

"What is it?" I asked.

Paul moved his chair closer, the bottoms screeching against the tiled floor. My hands were in his warm ones, and he cleared his throat a little before he spoke.

"You know how the first time I met you, I told you that you were going to fall in love with me?" Paul asked.

I thought of the memory fondly now, even though I was a bit taken aback at the time. I chuckled at Paul's confidence, nodding my head.

"Of course I remember. And look at you now, my little weirdo," I said affectionately, patting his cheek.

"Well, there was a reason I knew that," he said, not addressing at my joke.

I paused for a moment, frowning and racking my brain.

"Can you read my thoughts?" I whispered lowly.

Without warning, Paul broke out into a throaty chuckle, almost dropping my hands. I frowned as his laugher shot down my question without any sympathy or regard.

"Alright, it's not _that_ far fetched," I grumbled. "What're you on about then?"

He sobered up now, his face freezing from a faded joy to a solemn gaze.

"It's...called imprinting."

"Oh-kay," I said, urging him forward.

"It's basically...well it's like...the best way to describe it is a big bitch slap from the universe saying 'Don't fuck this up, kid, because she's the one.' Get it?"

I almost smiled. Paul was just so eloquent and romantic sometimes...not.

"Like love at first sight?" I asked, trying to piece together his vulgar and not so clear explanation.

"Like soulmates," he confirmed, lacing our fingers together.

I let the word roll around in my mind for a little. I knew Paul and I were serious. I knew that I was going to fall apart at the end of the Summer when I was leaving. But now with this imprinting thing hanging between us, there was an added weight. Now the universe didn't want me to leave?

"What pressure," I joked, breaking the intense gaze Paul was sharing with me.

"Are you okay?" he asked again, seemingly very concerned.

I looked at his usually sure, playful eyes and patted his cheek again. What did I have against imprinting? Nothing. It brought to this moment, didn't it? I learned forward to press a quick kiss to his lips before sliding my hands around his neck.

"You know," I commented, "Someone should write this whole story down—I think they'd sell millions."

Paul chuckled, taking my answer to mean that I was fine. He shook his head and kissed me lightly again.

"Are you kidding? Who'd want to read about our bullshit?"

* * *

I was greeted graciously when I entered Sam and Emily's house, with a lot of smiles, yells, and of course, blush-worthy comments. Because we all couldn't fit in the living room, I spotted people milling around hopefully in the kitchen, and heard distant calls of people outside.

"Where should we go?" I asked Paul, who placed a hand on my shoulder.

"Kitchen," he said hungrily, giving me a light push forward.

I rolled my eyes and followed the smell, some sort of bread or pastry wafting through the air. It seemed like Seth and Jared had the same idea, because they were both pressed against the kitchen table watching Emily and Kim eagerly.

"Kris!"

I smiled at the boys who both gave Paul man-shakes, and me broad grins.

"Glad you're here," Emily said fondly, patting my shoulder, while Kim came to give me a small hug.

I smiled warmly at both of them, knowing that we suddenly had a lot more in common.

"When do we eat?" Paul asked, without even saying hello. I was going to have to beat some manners into him. Emily didn't look too fazed though, probably because she was used to this sort of thing.

"You're just in time," Emily commented, grabbing her mitts and opening the oven.

"See Kris? There was a plus out of you taking so long to get ready," Paul said, smiling sweetly.

"See Paul? This is my foot and it's going up your ass," I whispered back, only loud enough for him and the boys to hear with their wolf ears. I was met with respective chuckles, and a raised eyebrow from Kim.

Paul frowned, giving me a mixed pout and glare. Now that is something I was used to.

And like that, I knew we were back.

* * *

"Before we eat, which I know we all want to do as quickly as possible, I'd like to make a toast," Embry said, raising his glass of soda.

"Here here!" Quil cried, raising his own glass.

I rolled my eyes and listened interestedly, Paul eyeing his food greedily next to him. I nudged his shoulder and he grudgingly looked away and toward Embry.

"I'd like to dedicate this to Kris," Embry said.

My eyebrows raised in surprise, my ears suddenly very curious to what was going to follow.

"For a long time, Paul was an angry, angry wolf," Embry said, shaking his head.

"Nothing worked at all—therapy, Midol..." Quil added, shaking his head in mock seriousness.

I laughed as Paul growled and the guys all agreed in amusement.

"And then you came into the picture. And Paul was a new man—a more controlled, easy going man, who didn't threaten to kick our assses every second of the day," Embry said with a bright smile.

"I'm gonna kick your ass if you don't wrap this up," Paul said, tightly smiling.

"Hey, this is a positive speech," Jared said from next to Paul, clapping his back.

"We just want to thank you for everything you've done. And now that you know everything, you're part of the group. An honorary wolf, if you'd like," Embry said, shrugging slightly.

"To conclude," Quil said, standing and raising his glass. "Thank you for being Paul's Midol."

"Cheers!" Seth said, raising his glass.

"Cheers!" everyone agreed, clinking their drinks with their neighbors.

I laughed at Paul's sullen expression and kissed his cheek, pulling the side of his mouth up with my finger.

"Smile boyfriend," I whispered.

"Imprint," he corrected, his lips slightly upturning.

"Soulmate," I re-phrased, grabbing his hand under the table.

As everybody put their glasses down and started in on their food, Paul kept my right hand under the table, forcing me to eat with my left hand. I didn't complain, though, because Kim had informed me in the kitchen of what a bad time it was for Paul when I was gone. He didn't deserve that, so I'd be trying to make it up for a while.

As if he could hear or sense my thoughts (not a mind reader my ass) Paul squeezed my fingers and leaned closer to me.

"Don't leave again?" he asked quietly, warm breath hitting my ear lightly.

"I won't," I promised, squeezing his hand right back.


	22. Chapter 22

So it may seem filler-ish, but it was just to speed things along. Love me anyway?

* * *

I always thought it was going to be a momentous event when I fell in love. Like one instant moment, sparks flying, heart leaping, mind crushing in realization. But in all honestly, it wasn't like that at all. It was a series of moments, and I knew that I had to hold on to all of them.

The boys were playing football in Kim's backyard. Her house was fairly small, but her backyard was pretty big and the boys were having a lot of fun tackling each other. And Kim and I were having a good time watching them tackle each other…shirtless.

But we were constantly interrupted by the jeers of the boys who seemed to have a comment for every cheer we sent their way. And that's when I decided to let my real side shine out.

"C'mon Jared," Kim called, as loud as I'd heard her soft-spoken voice go.

"Yeah Jared, score me a point!" Quil yelled shrilly, clutching his heart.

"Kim," I said, putting a hand on her shoulder. She was glaring at Quil but turned to me with interest as I spoke. "I think it's time you've learned the subtle art of trash-talking."

"Subtle?" she questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"See, that condescending tone? That's perfect, use that," I said, smiling as I put an arm around her shoulder.

She laughed and turned to look at the boys, who were busy in two separate huddles. They were so big it just looked like a bunch of copper colored boulders standing in a pile, whooping loudly.

"Now, it's sort of insulting to us, but girl insults work the best on a bunch of proud guys," I said, watching them break apart and form lines.

"Like what exactly?" she asked, leaning back in her lawn chair.

"Watch and learn," I said, smiling and turning my attention to the game.

Lucky for me, Quil was currently throwing the ball. Seth was about to catch it when Paul lunged in for a tackle, distracting Seth who he only managed to clip in the shoulder. The ball toppled on the ground, missing Seth's fingertips by centimeters.

"Aw, c'mon Seth, hike up your skirt and grow a pair!"

The boys all turned to me simultaneously. Their dark eyes all looked at me in surprise, but Paul's also held laughter. Which followed in a few seconds. Paul shook his head at me, mumbling something under his breath as the guys let their laughter die down and started to play again.

"See?" I asked Kim. "Effective. No jabs at us, no mimicking in girly tones. You've gotta gain their respect."

She nodded. I almost laughed at how serious she looked and was so glad that she'd warmed up to me. I really felt at ease with her, and was glad that she wasn't shy to the core. You just had to get her to open up.

"Okay, I've got to wait for my moment," she said, assessing the action.

We had to wait a few more minutes, but our opportunity came. This time, it was Jared who missed the ball. I thought that would trip up Kim for a moment, and I saw the hesitation in her eyes as she opened the mouth. I urged her on with a clap on the back and she looked at me nervously before talking.

"What's wrong Jared? Pull out your tampon and act like a man!"

Every single jaw fell, including my own. She hadn't needed much coaching apparently. My laugher immediately followed, and I gave her a one-armed hug which was extremely well deserved. Jared looked floored as the boys laughed around him, his jaw remaining unhinged as he stared at Kim. She turned slightly red and shrugged sheepishly, turning to me for comfort. I put a hand on her shoulder and turned to the boys.

"What did you do to my girlfriend?" Jared asked me, wide-eyed. "Paul, your girl is corrupting people!"

Paul was striding forward, pushing Jared to the side. He was by my chair in one second, leaning down and planting a huge, wet kiss on my lips.

"She's perfect," he whispered, kissing my temple before turning back to the game.

"And that is how it's done," I said to Kim.

She laughed, still a little red-tinted. She didn't speak much more after that, but when I caught Paul's eye he gave me a big wink. And the twinkle in Kim's eyes was worth it too.

* * *

I was frowning at Paul's pink fading scars when he tried to change the subject.

"Do you know what August 4th is?" Paul asked me as I draped my legs across his. We were intertwined in his living room, eating popcorn and watching a movie neither of us was really paying attention to. I was trying to probe him for wolf-like information, but it wasn't really working, so I embraced the change of topic.

"Um…next Tuesday?" I ventured, looking at him.

"And…"

"And…it means August is here. Which sucks," I said, frowning deeply.

"And…" he pressed.

"And you should just tell me?"

"My birthday!" he exclaimed, taking a break from shoveling in popcorn to see my reaction.

"Oh, we're finally going to be the same age. Bye-bye cougar status," I said sadly, grabbing a handful of popcorn.

"So…what are you going to get me?" Paul asked, sounding much more like a boy about to be eight than a boy about to be eighteen.

"I don't know…action figures?"

"Funny," he said flatly.

"When I was eight, I wanted an American Girl doll. Do you want one of those?" I asked sweetly.

"When I was eight, I wanted cakes," Paul said, his voice drifting into memory.

"Cake?" I choked, almost laughing. "Who wants just cake for their birthday?"

"No, cakes. With a 's'. I wanted every single flavor you could possibly imagine so I could eat them for days after and make pretend that my birthday went on for days."

"That would be pretty cool," I said, as genuinely as possible without making fun of him. He seemed to think it was still a good idea.

"Yeah, it would," he said dreamily, dumping a wolf sized pile of popcorn into his mouth.

* * *

I looked at my handiwork. It had taken me six hours, three cousins, and a lot of icing, but here it was. Chocolate cake with vanilla icing, chocolate cake with chocolate icing, vanilla cake with chocolate icing, vanilla cake with vanilla icing, lemon cake with vanilla icing, red velvet cake with creamcheese icing, and an ice cream cake. I'm sure there were more, but it was the thought that counted.

Paul would be here in ten minutes. I was still shoving my clothes on, a nice draping blouse for the occasion with white shorts and sparkly sandals. It was a step up from T-shirts and flip flops, at least. I tamed my somewhat Hermione, Sorcerer's Stone era, hair and got in into a messy bun that didn't look particularly awful. I grabbed the card I'd written on my desk and took one last look at the picture I'd drawn.

It was Paul and I, my favorite one of us on the couch. My skills were a little rusty, but things started to come back to me as I drew. I could almost sense my dad smiling me as I did it.

I ran down the stairs just in time. I heard heavy knocking on the front door, which thankfully would be answered by me and only me. My aunt and uncle had taken the twins to a birthday party and Ang was out with her friends.

I threw open the door and smiled widely, jumping directly into Paul's embrace. I twisted my hands in his hair and kissed him roughly, making him smirk against my lips.

"Happy birthday," I breathed, inhaling his earth scent and cologne, his shampoo and toothpaste. It made my stomach settle even when it was flopping and I kissed him once more before he returned me to my feet.

"I wish it was my birthday every day," he said heavily, kissing my head with half-lidded eyes.

"Wait til you see what I got you!" I exclaimed, grabbing his warm hand and pulling him toward the kitchen.

I didn't really have to pull, actually, because Paul seemed quite eager. Our footsteps creaked as we walked quickly along the floors and into the lit kitchen. Just before we entered I stopped and turned around, poking a finger in Paul's chest.

"Close your eyes," I commanded.

He did as he was told, and I grabbed his hand again, pulling him inside. He took a few careful steps and I positioned him in front of the table.

"Open!"

His eyelids fluttered and widened immediately. He stood for a few seconds, mouth opening slightly, than being overtaken in a wide smile.

"All the flavors?" he asked.

"All of them," I said, smiling back.

He wrapped his muscled arms around me and picked me up like I weighed five pounds. I laughed as he spun me, chattering excitedly the whole time. I couldn't even tell what he was saying, but I knew it must be good.

"And there's more," I said, as he returned me gently to the ground.

"More?" he asked happily. I don't think I'd ever seen him smile so much in one period.

I turned around and lifted the picture off the table, brandishing it to him in one sweep. He peered down at it, reaching to take it instantly. He regarded it carefully, tracing a hand around our faces.

"We really are good-looking," he said with a grin. "And you are very talented."

"Thanks," I chuckled, moving so I could fit into the crook of his arm.

"Everything is great. Tops my mom's gift of clothes and the guy's gift of nothing."

I hugged him from the side, burying my face into his shirt.

"Love you," he said. "So much."

"Same here," I agreed, my face and heart and stomach smiling happily.

"So…" he said, after a moment of blissful silence. "Can we eat the cake?"

* * *

So that brought August. And in case was there was any question, those were the small events that made it worth it, that made it fly by, that made it _everything_.


	23. Chapter 23

Short but necessary. Reviews are just plain lovely. P.S. We're nearing the end. :(

* * *

Paul had gone crazy in the last few weeks trying to find exciting things to do. After an exhausting hike, another cliff dive, and a black and white movie house I was now sitting in a Ferris Wheel, wishing he would slow down and talk to me.

It had finally come, and Paul successfully ignored it until now.

I was leaving tomorrow.

My bags were stuffed haphazardly, my mother was ready to drive in the morning, and Ang was already getting teary. Paul hadn't said anything, but the way he was glued to my hand and taking glances at me every few seconds, I knew what he was thinking.

I squeezed his hand even harder but he attributed it to the height of the Ferris Wheel and wrapped an arm around my shoulder. I got closer to memorize him, to inhale the scent of the outdoors and mingled cologne, to feel how his muscles moved under his shirt, to love the feel of his skin even though it burned against mine. I didn't always know what to believe about wolves and legends, but in times like this imprinting seemed so true and perfect and utterly heart-breaking.

I knew I was the one leaving, and therefore I shouldn't be complaining about everything. But what was I supposed to tell people? That I was eighteen and giving up college and life to stay here with my boyfriend of two months? I wanted to experience things, I wanted to have a life…but such a large part of me wanted to stay here too. Let's just say those parts didn't always get along.

My eyes glazed over in the bright lights as night grew darker and we moved toward the ground. In the back of my mind, I thought that this would be a perfect picture to draw. The huge machine shuddered and screeched but we finally made it, landing on the grass and looking for what to do next.

"Cotton candy?" I asked, knowing I wouldn't have the stomach for anything heavier.

"Sure," Paul said distantly, "I just want to go to the bathroom first. Stay right here."

I rolled my eyes because even such a simple thing could turn into worry for him. I watched him move to the right and disappear and fought off the sudden urge to cry. I wasn't an overemotional person, but it was already dark. That meant less than twenty-four hours, and Paul wasn't even talking to me about it. I needed to know what was going on in his mind.

I was knocked out of my thoughts as someone rammed into my side, nearly sending me sprawling to the ground. I recovered balance and blinked a few times, clutching my side but feeling no permanent damage. I saw only a mess of dark curls and apologetic eyes as a boy straightened himself and put a hand on my arm.

"I'm so sorry," he said, patting my shoulder. "My friends are idiots, and they keep stealing my hat and I was chasing them, and well…you don't care," he said, shaking his head.

"It's okay," I said, smiling slightly and moving my arms. "Nothing broken."

"Good. And you know, if you find any internal bleeding or anything, feel free to sue me. It would certainly teach my friends a lesson and maybe you'd get some money out of it," he suggested, shrugging his shoulders with a smile.

"Noted," I chuckled.

He was about to speak when another person interrupted.

"Let's go."

I frowned at the deep voice and even more at the hand that grabbed my arm and pulled me away from the boy. I didn't protest though, because once Paul was in a mood you needed to let him get it out before you argued back. Or at least that's what I hoped he would do now. I watched as the scenery shot past, with a blurred clown here and a pin game smearing on my left side. We were heading toward more open ground, closer to the exit where less people were scattered.

"What is going on?" I asked finally, causing Paul to stop abruptly and me to nearly topple once more. He righted me quickly and continued to smolder.

"I saw you talking to that boy," he said slowly, each word accented with anger.

"I'm allowed to have conversations with boys," I said, crossing my arms and narrowing my eyes.

"I know," Paul shot, rolling his eyes. "But it wasn't just him. It's...if…"

I watched as he struggled. He was so big but he suddenly seemed small and confused as his face twisted and he stood without words. I wanted to help him, I wanted to stay with him and made sure he never looked this way again, but I didn't know what he was thinking right now so I prodded him along.

"If?" I asked.

"How many guys are going to be in your college Kris?" he finally asked. "How many are in New York City? Tons. And they probably have a hell of a lot more to offer than a kid who's lived in La Push his whole life. I know you love me, and I know you'll miss me. But you're going off and experiencing life and having a good time and what am I supposed to do? Wait here and miss you? I can't _handle_ that," he breathed, running his hands over his face.

I was glad he was finally telling me this, but at the same time I was angered by what he was saying. My insides clenched in a million different ways as I literally held down the scream that could've came from my throat. I pushed down the fury that threatened to lace my voice and took a few deep breaths before speaking.

"I'm not asking you to stop your life and wait for my return," I pointed out, running my own hands over my face tiredly.

"I know you're not asking. But you don't seem to understand how hard it's going to be. It was hell when you went to Seattle. Imagine that, amplified by thousands because you'll be gone for months at a time!" he exclaimed, flourishing his hands in the air in angry jerks.

"But we can call and visit and write—"

"It's not the same Kris! And I'm sorry to yell, but I am a completely selfish asshole. Because every guy in the pack is telling me you have to do what's best for you, and I have to accept it, but it's not them so they shouldn't be telling me shit! I know if you took Claire or Emily or Kim away, those guys would freak but because it's me, the asshole, they want me to shut up and deal with it," he fumed.

"I'm not going forever," I said quietly, trying not to make him angrier. "I just don't want to wonder, years later, if I should've tried to go to New York. I want to know I've made the right decision."

"So you just assume I'm not the right decision?" Paul asked, his hands starting to tremor.

"That's not what I mean!" I said, grabbing his hand which he just jerked back forcefully. I frowned but continued, wanting to calm him down so he didn't transform at a freaking carnival. "I just mean that I planned on NYU for a long time. I planned on college. I don't want to skip everything and wish later on that I went. I know you're going to be here for me forever—"

"Exactly! So if you know, why can't you stay?"

I let out a frustrated sigh and tried to approach from a new tactic.

"I can't! What am I supposed to tell my family? To my aunt and uncle? Hey, can I live here with you for a few more years so I can be close to my boyfriend?"

"So let's get married."

I froze, not just in movement, but in thought and soul and mind.

"What?" I asked slowly, looking at his dark but ever-serious eyes.

"Marry me," he said, grabbing a hand and looking at me so intensely that I nearly forgot where I was. I shared his desperate, passionate gaze but it only made my stomach flip even more to consider what he was saying.

"I can't," I said, shaking my head. "I can't," I repeated, willing my eyes to stop watering.

"But you said yourself that you know we'll be together forever—"

"I know!" I cut in. "I know but I can't do it! I can't choose!"

We stood for a few moments, pushed inches apart by the palpable anger, fear, and longing hanging between us. I was torn between reaching out to him and running away, between telling him I loved him or leaving him alone. Finally he broke the silence.

"That's funny," Paul said, shaking his head without any humor. "Sounds to me like you've already chosen."


	24. Chapter 24

Well that took a long time...whoops?

* * *

New York was loud.

That was one thing I should have expected, but didn't really think about until we entered. The buildings craned upward for miles and I hurt my neck just staring into the sky. People covered the sidewalks, ads covered the surfaces, and there was traffic everywhere. All this culminated into a busy, vibrant, loud environment.

It was quite a culture shock after staying in rainy Forks the past two months.

Plus, I watched every face pass in the crowd, and it was weird that I didn't know any of them. No Ang, no Embry, no Seth, no Lily, and worst of all, no Paul.

I leaned my head against the window, taking it all it, and wondering if I was the kind of person that was meant to be here, or meant to be somewhere like La Push.

* * *

My mother lugged in one of suitcases, turning to me with a sad smile. I could already see the tears forming in her eyes—hell, they'd been lingering there since NYU had come into view. I fought off the ache in my own chest that had settled there since Washington disappeared from view. Every road sign as we got farther had me questioning if I was doing the right thing after all.

"I know everybody says this," my mom said, brushing a piece of hair from my face. "But I can't believe how quickly you grew up."

I smiled slightly, shaking my head.

"Believe me, if I could go back to first grade, I would."

"Sounds good to me. I'll call up the elementary school," she said, chuckling and placing my suitcase on the bare bed. "In the mean time, we have to decorate in here! It looks dreary."

"I know," I said, scanning the white walls and uncharacterized furniture. "Good thing we hit Target on the way up here."

She chuckled and nodded, just as a heavy thud landed on the floor. We both looked at Paul who had entered the room, my last bag in his hands. He shrugged his shoulders, attempting a smile.

"She's a heavy packer," he excused.

"Good thing we had you to help!" my mother said, beaming. Her and Paul had bonded on the way over, especially after discussing my "safety in New York" and listing about every potential danger I would have to avoid. As if I wouldn't know to run away from someone that was following me, or trying to steal my purse.

"Well let's get started. We're burning daylight," my mom said, clapping her hands together. "I want to get home to Brian before nighttime."

"Let's do it," Paul agreed with a smile, clapping his own hands together.

I smiled back, but the weight just felt heavier in my stomach.

My mom started sifting through the plastic bags full of rugs and bedspreads as Paul came to my side. He gestured to the black suitcase that he had carried up.

"I left you something in there, in case you change your mind."

I smiled a little and shook my head. He'd been dropping those comments all day, about how it wasn't too late to turn around, or how La Push was missing me already.

"What is it? A picture of you? A La Push brochure?" I joked.

"Maybe," he said, giving me the smallest of grins.

I playfully shoved him. He of course moved nowhere.

"Here we go!" my mom said, lifting a bag of sheets in the air. "Paul, you open this. Kris, you grab the rug and start putting it down."

"Yes ma'am," Paul agreed, giving me one last wink before going to help my mom.

* * *

After a tearful and messy good-bye with my mother, I turned to face Paul. His arms immediately turned to magnets and lifted me off the ground. I buried my face in his T-shirt, wishing he could stay here and go to school with me, and knowing that was helplessly impossible. My tear ducts were already overworked, and I didn't know how much more I could take.

"New York is amazing," he whispered in my ear, returning me to the ground but keeping his arms around my waist. "I can tell you love it."

I couldn't help but nod. I'd always loved cities, and New York was no exception. After spending the day with my mom and Paul, though, I didn't know how I was going to handle it all by myself.

"You'll be fine," Paul said, reading my thoughts. "You're tough. And I'll worry every second and gladly come here to help you if you need it, but I know you can handle it."

"I can," I promised, hoping my voice didn't waver.

"I love you," he said, leaning down to press his warm forehead against my own.

"I love you too," I said. "Don't think I don't. Please understand this doesn't mean I don't want to be with you."

"I know," he said heavily, sighing. His warm breath hit my face and lingered there. "I know," he repeated, as if assuring himself.

"I'll be back for holidays and you can visit too, and before we know it, it'll be Summer," I said helplessly.

"I like Summer," he said with a tight smile.

"I'll call too," I added.

"I want to know everything. About classes, and friends, and the city, and anything you can think of," he said.

"Of course," I agreed. "I have to complain about the jerks here to someone." He chuckled as I continued. "And I want to know how home is. The guys, and Embry, and you have to check in on Ang for me."

"Home?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Home," I repeated firmly.

"I like the sound of that," he said, leaning down to kiss me lightly, first on the lips, than on the top of my head.

"I'll miss you more than you can imagine," I said, chancing a glance at my mother who looked drained, giving me a sympathetic smile.

"I think I can imagine," Paul said darkly.

I frowned but let him kiss me once more before reluctantly turning away.

"I think your mom wants to go," he said, looking back at the waiting car.

"Call me when you get home," I said, feeling the weight grow even heavier as his warmth suddenly moved away from me.

"I will," he said, swallowing hardly.

I stood by the window as he climbed in the passenger seat of my mom's blue Honda. He had to crouch to get in and I smiled sadly as he fastened his seatbelt, reaching his hand through the window to squeeze my hand one last time.

"Bye sweetheart. Good luck! I love you and I'll call you tomorrow," my mom said, hunching over the steering wheel to blow me a kiss.

"Okay mom," I said, barely able to register what she said as Paul's hand fell from my own.

"I love you," I said softly to him as my mother turned on the engine.

"I love you too," he said, nodding firmly just before waving goodbye. I watched them turn into the traffic ridden street, and even though I knew he meant it, for some reason it just made me feel worse.


	25. Chapter 25

I was very happy with the amount of/quickness with the reviews of the last chapter. :) It made me happy! So here's another one, keep being wonderful!

* * *

I'd anticipated missing Paul, but I'd only thought about the emotional part. I didn't think of how much I would miss arms wrapped around me, or his lips, or more importantly…his abs. I'd tacked up a couple of pictures on my bulletin board but somehow it didn't suffice. But on a serious note, I just missed him simply _being _there. And hearing his voice made it worse and better at the same time.

I just listened to the phone for a moment, barely hearing his words as I memorized his voice as he spoke. A little creepy, perhaps, which is why I slowly fazed back into reality and tried to focus on the words.

"How's your math professor—Stein? Is that his name?" Paul asked.

I turned over in bed to lie on my back, rolling my eyes to the ceiling.

"Yes. And he's as pompous as ever. I'm so glad I have Art after that or I might explode."

"Did your art professor like the picture you did of the park?" Paul asked.

I smiled widely, feeling a flip in my stomach at his curiosity. He'd remembered every little detail I'd told him—not something he was usually very good at. In fact, he sometimes barely registered conversations we were having, and now he was being absolutely perfect.

"Yeah, she did," I said, biting my lip. "I'm starting to get back into it."

"Good," he said happily. "And are you still being anti-social?"

"I'm not anti-social," I growled, "I'm just not good at talking to stupid people. I'm not the best conversationalist."

"You were fine when you met the guys," he pointed out.

"Yeah, but you were there and it wasn't such an awkward situation," I groaned. "I hate meeting people, especially those dumbass ice breakers we had to play at orientation. If I talk to someone, I talk to them, you know?"

"Yes, I have met you before," Paul said sarcastically.

"Don't make it sound like you're Mr. Outgoing," I said, rolling my eyes, "I practically have to prod you with a stick to check your breathing when you hang out with Angela!"

"Don't turn this on me! I'm not the one who's not out making friends," he laughed.

"I like a couple of people on my floor," I said defensively.

"Oh, look at you, you're practically like a real person," he cooed.

"Shut up!"

His only response was laughter while I waited for it to die down so I could change the subject. I was about to ask him how everything was with him when a sudden blare of music erupted from the left of me. I sighed heavily—this was a common occurrence. In fact, I'd gotten to know my next door neighbor very well the last few weeks.

"Wow that's loud," Paul said, "You at a rock concert?"

"It's Tyra again," I grunted, "Next time I call you might be from a jail cell after the murder."

"Give her hell for me, babe," he laughed. "I'll call you tomorrow."

"Bye, I love you," I chuckled, waiting for him to say good-bye before I pressed the 'end' key. The good-byes of our conversation were usually the worst—when the cheeriness died down and the stomach clenching started. But it had gotten a little, or at least the slightest bit, easier.

I rose from my bed, nearly tripping over a suitcase that I'd been too lazy to unpack. I bypassed the stack of books I kept near my bedside and wrenched open the wooden door, cursing the paper thin walls this place had. I strode a few feet over and rapped sharply on the door, crossing my arms in impatience.

It was a miracle she heard me through that bass line and opened the door. Tyra and I had a fairly hostile relationship going on, and her eyes screamed attitude as she crossed her own arms and flipped her curly hair over her shoulder.

"Again Tyra? I'm starting to think you just want to see my face," I said, smiling sarcastically.

"It's not a crime to play music, Kristina. It's not even nine o'clock," she scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"I have a paper to write, for a class. You know what that is? A room with four walls and a professor, and generally some teaching goes on—"

"Oh shove it, Green. I'll turn it down for god sakes," she said, giving me another eye roll as she started to shut the door.

"Thanks, you've been a treat as always!" I called.

I caught a glimpse of her middle finger before the door closed completely and I laughed, heading back to my own room. She was a bitch, but she was a reasonable one. At least my neighbor on the other side, Kayla, and I got along. We bonded over our mutual Tyra-dislike.

I headed back to my room, knowing I should start my paper, but having absolutely no motivation. I was still distracted by the music which was still fairly loud despite the fact that she turned it down at least half way. I sighed and picked my cell phone back up, dialing my mother's number.

Nothing like procrastination.

* * *

I sat on a park bench, pulling my legs up to my chest. I put my shoulder bag beside me, happy to have the weight of my textbooks lifted off my shoulder. Whenever I had my break between Art and English, I liked to catch up with people—most specifically Embry. He was the best one of the guys to talk to, and with some prodding, he would tell me what was really going on with Paul.

I dialed his number which I had now memorized and pressed my phone to my ear. He answered after two rings, like he always did.

"Hello Ms. Green," he greeted, and I could picture the smile on his face. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Can't I just call you out of friendship?"

"Sure, but…you usually have an ulterior motive," he said slowly.

"Not true! I wanted to know how that girl you like is. And how your grandma is, Paul told me she was sick."

"She's feeling better. And Elisa is good—she doesn't know I exist, but you know, physically, she's doing well."

"Talk to her!" I prodded. "At least if it doesn't work out, you won't be left wondering."

"I guess," he said uncertainly, his shyness peaking through.

"Tonight's a bonfire, right?" I asked, recalling a previous conversation with Paul.

"Yeah, I was just shopping with Jared and Kim," he said. "She says she misses you. Apparently Claire isn't quite as good company, and Leah is well...she's Leah."

"Tell her I miss her too," I chuckled, feeling the familiar pang of homesickness. "Why don't you invite Elisa?"

"Um…we'll see," Embry said. I could imagine him scratching his neck in discomfort and rolled my eyes. Hopefully the guys would talk some confidence into him. And speaking of the guys…

"Make sure Paul has a good time," I said sternly, biting my lip. Although he was always cheery on the phone, Embry told me he wasn't particularly pleasant in person.

"Have you ever tried to make Paul do something?" he asked.

"Well, yes," I said, grinning slightly. "But I wouldn't recommend you use some of my more…_persuasive_ tactics."

"Gross Kris! Mental images can scar too!"

I laughed and wrapped an arm around my legs, leaning my chin on my knees.

"But really, Em," I sighed. "Thanks for looking out for him."

"No problem, we all are," Embry said casually. "And if I'm correct, it's exactly six weeks and three days until Thanksgiving."

"I admire your stalking."

"Yeah well admire your boyfriend for reminding me every day," he corrected.

"Aw, what a girl," I said fondly.

"You're weird," Embry stated flatly. "But we do miss you."

"I miss you guys too," I said honestly.

"I've gotta go help Emily with something for later. I'll talk to you later?"

"Sure thing," I said, "Bye Em."

I tucked my phone in my pocket. Sometimes phone calls just made me feel worse. I was adapting to the city, but a familiar voice could send me back to La Push in a couple of seconds, leaving me feeling empty. I let the wind lift my hair for a moment and inhaled deeply, trying to block the car fumes and settle at least on the pretzel smell.

"I wouldn't breathe that deeply if I were you," a voice said from above me.

I looked up to see a boy who was in my math class. I would have doubted my certainty if it wasn't for the shockingly blue highlights in his hair, or the fact that he was always dressed far better than I was in clothes that I secretly wanted. I pushed La Push out of my mind before I addressed him.

"Is it sad I'm almost used to it?" I asked, smiling.

"Unfortunately, I am too," he said, frowning before he plopped down next to me. "You're in Stein's class right?"

"Yes," I said sullenly, silently loathing the gray haired monster.

"You don't like it either?" he asked.

"Not at all," I breathed.

"That man is the hugest bitch I've ever met," he said flatly.

"Right?" I exclaimed, turning to him. "Don't you want to—"

"—Slap him? Only every second," he said venomously.

"I made the mistake of going for his office hours once," I shuddered. "I still have nightmares about it."

"I'm so glad someone agrees. My friend Madison told me 'he wasn't that bad' but really," he said, shaking his head.

"He's very subtlety condescending," I theorized, "Soft-spoken, yet conceited."

"Exactly," he agreed.

We both smiled and sat in silence for a moment. I was always excited when I bonded with people and was able to be my usual self. Not a lot of people always appreciated that.

"I'm Jay, by the way," he said, outstretching his hand.

"Kris," I said, shaking it.

"I'm really aching for a hot dog. You wanna come?" he asked, wiping his pants as he got to his feet.

"Sure," I agreed, grabbing my bag and smiling. "The smell finally got to me."

As we started to walk toward a vendor, I quickly pulled out my cell phone.

_Getting lunch with a classmate…Who's anti-social now bitch? ;)_

I smiled as I clicked Paul's name before I pressed send and jogged to keep up with Jay.

* * *

I turned over in bed, groaning at the light that was streaming in through the windows. I had forgotten to close the blinds and my tired eyes were more than regretting it. I rolled to my nightstand and squinted through my haze to the alarm clock.

9:08.

I processed this for a moment before I realized my class was at 9:30. Shit. I rolled out of bed landing on the floor with a thud.

"Suck _ass_," I seethed, rubbing my knees as I stumbled up, forcing open a drawer. I grabbed the first pair of jeans I could, not bothering to change my wrinkled T-shirt. I shoved them on my legs, nearly slipping on the green furry carpet my mother insisted on placing in the center of the room as I dashed for my books. I piled them into my bag and looked furiously at the mirror.

…Complete mess.

I groaned again, smoothing my hair as best as I could into a ponytail. It was sloppy and most unflattering, but at least I wasn't trying to impress anyone. My face could use a little washing or moisturizer, but that wasn't going to happen. I put on the first pair of flip flops I could find and grabbed my bag, nearly running for the door.

I was down the hallway and on my way as I checked my cell phone for the time.

9:16.

There was 2 missed calls flashing on the screen too, which I didn't hear over the sound of my snoring apparently. But I'd have to see what it was later.


	26. Chapter 26

This is short, but it's here!

* * *

Math was brutal, as usual, but this time Jay had taken the seat next to me, and I'd learned through his elaborate doodles that he was pretty good at art himself. I also spent my time looking at the patterns on his shirt, which was wildly designed, like everything else about him. He caught me staring, though, and leaned closer to talk to me, his hair falling in his eyes as he stretched across his desk.

"Can I borrow your scarf?" he whispered.

"Why?" I whispered back, checking to make sure my demonic teacher was not looking my way.

"So I can hang myself," he muttered, resting his head on his chin with a frown.

I chuckled and pulled my green scarf closer to myself.

"Get your own," I whispered back. "I'm going to need it for myself."

"That's fair," he mumbled in a defeated tone, going back to his doodles as I peeked at my watch. Five more minutes. I could make it, hopefully.

I managed to drown out the dull voice coming from the front of his room and let my mind wander. After art, I would check the messages I missed from this morning, and hope that it wasn't Paul and he wasn't concerned that I didn't answer. For such a tough guy he could be a real drama queen about things, but I'd learned that it was sort of a trademark of the wolves. Over-reactors, the lot of them.

I also made a mental note to call Angela, because I couldn't even remember the last time we'd talked. After spending the whole Summer with her, I'd forgotten how much I could miss her when we weren't together. She was so often a soothing presence in my life, I kind of wished she'd miraculously transfer to NYU, but so far I couldn't convince her.

"So test next Thursday, I expect you all to pass, although I also expected the Yankees to win the World Series, so we'll see what happens."

I rolled my eyes and gathered my books as quickly as possible, shoving them recklessly into my bag as everybody began to rise from their seats.

"Lunch later?" Jay asked, moving much more gracefully than me and already sticking his iPod in his ears.

"Sure," I agreed, "I'll call you later."

"Adios," he said, saluting as we went separate ways.

I ran to art and hoped this day would go quicker.

* * *

I pressed my phone to my ear, biting my lip as I heard my mother's frantic voice on the other end. Don wasn't doing well, and every word she spoke sent another weight into my chest. I hated hearing my mother sound so defeated again, it made me think of my dad and the pain stung freshly all over again.

I skipped the next messages from Paul and NYU, figuring Paul was checking up and NYU was about a weather notice or something unimportant. I dialed my mom right away, but it went straight to voicemail, so I said in panic for a moment before gathering myself.

I threw my phone on my bed and flopped next to it, burying my face in the pillow. I felt useless being hundreds of miles away when my mom needed me—all she had was Brian, and he could barely even talk. I just hoped she would call her friends if she needed help, but I knew my headstrong quality was from her as much as it was from my father.

It didn't help that I hadn't checked my messages all day because after Art I went to the library, and after that I got lunch with Jay, and completely ignored my family. I was probably shoving French fries in my throat while my mom was crying.

I groaned heavily and checked my watch, realizing I'd also missed my phone time with Paul and he was probably angry. He always wanted me to call first because he insisted I was "busier and more important" and I'd never missed a call…until today.

I'd put him on speed dial long ago and now pressed seven and waited to hear his voice.

"Hello?"

Seemingly, it did comfort me, even if it was one word. Something about his voice just made me feel like I was close to home.

"Sorry I'm late," I sighed, pushing my hair from my eyes. "My mom called before and said Don was doing badly, but I can't get in touch with her."

"Did you try her cell?" he asked.

"Yes," I said. "I just feel like I'm so far away and there's nothing I can even do that will make any sort of difference," I sighed, rubbing my temples. "I don't even know what to say for god sakes."

"I'm sorry."

I frowned, trying to trace exactly what I heard in his voice before I realized it was what I didn't hear that made my stomach turn.

"You don't sound like you're sorry," I said, adjusting my legs on my bed.

"Look, that's what you want me to say, so I'm saying it."

"What does that mean?" I asked harshly. "What do _you _want to say?"

"I'm not good at being sympathetic, and I think you know that," he said coldly.

"It doesn't sound like you're having a problem with sympathy, it sounds like you have a problem with _me_," I said pointedly.

"Don't make this a fight," he said flatly.

"You're the one making it a fight," I growled. "Do you have something to say?"

"I have a lot of things to say," he said in the same chilling tone.

"So say them," I said with gritted teeth, glaring at his picture on the wall and debating on chucking a shoe at it.

"Okay, I'll say them, here it goes," he said sarcastically, "You're complaining because you're not here. Well, news flash Kris, that's your fault!" he exclaimed. "Going to New York? Your choice! Staying in New York? That's right, your choice! And venting to me who got stuck on the shit end of the deal? Say it once more—your damn choice!"

I could practically hear the eye roll and the tremor in his skin and it made my insides fill with fire.

"You're right," I said rigidly. "It's my choice. And I chose to leave because I wanted to have opportunities, and I thought you were supportive. But you've obviously been lying this whole time!"

"I'm not being supportive? I let you go—"

"—You _let_ me go?" I cut in with a harsh laugh. "You don't dictate everything I do, Paul, no matter what your freakish wolf heritage might think."

"I wasn't saying that! I was saying that you knew very well this was gonna be hard as shit and you went anyway. And I couldn't do anything about it!" he retorted.

"You could've came with me—"

"—You know that I couldn't! I can't leave the pack, and what am I going to do in New York? Besides, I'm starting a life, I got a job today, and you didn't even fucking call me back about it. I want you here, and you're off living a life I don't know anything about. That I'm not the smallest bit a part of."

"We don't have to be a part of everything I do. Is this about Jay? Because you don't have to worry, we're just friends—"

"—It's not about that guy. It's not even about you leaving. Because you know this isn't about independence, Kris…you're scared and you know it."

"Scared of what?" I asked lowly, feeling the tears already forming warm pools on the edges of my eyes.

"I don't know," he breathed. "Me? Us? Of being young but knowing where your life is going? I tried to ignore it, and you wrote it off as me being overprotective. I don't want you to give up everything Kris, I want you to be _you _and be with me at the same time."

He sounded defeated as the first tears slipped out of my eyes. I couldn't even tell what I was feeling, but I felt the nagging suspicion that some of his words were true and I'd been ignoring them all along. I heard his ragged breaths on the other end and struggled with what I was going to respond with. I'd never really been at a loss for words.

"I don't know what to say," I finally whispered, wiping my cheeks.

"Just think about it," he said, as I heard his breathing relax. He was probably trying to calm himself so he didn't transform on the phone. "And this is a guess, but I'm sure you haven't looked at the thing I left in your suitcase."

My gaze traveled to my suitcase of winter clothes, that I had been too lazy to unpack. It stood like a foreign soldier, guarding my closet, rigid but forlorn. Now it just seemed like one thing from my past that I'd been avoiding.

"Just read it," he said quietly, and then the dialtone was all I heard.


	27. Chapter 27

I'm getting to the point where I need to end this! :(

* * *

Before I even approached the suitcase, I dialed my voicemail and swallowed the lump in my throat. Paul's voice immediately came through, a mix of cheery and anxious, and it made my stomach sink into the floor. I rubbed my temples and listened to him, unsure of whether I should feel guilty or angry, but just concluding that either way I felt utterly awful.

"I wish you were here to tell me what to wear on my interview, but then again, my natural charm will probably win them over," Paul joked, his humor lined with the slightest of his gruff tones. "Plus I only have one tie so you probably wouldn't like the options. But I'm pretty excited, because now I can finally make some money and take you to a proper restaurant that doesn't serve pancakes at 9 o'clock at night." I heard the noise of him quickly recovering from his statement. "Not that there's anything wrong with our diner—it is of course, where you fell madly in love with me. But you get the point. Call me later, and if I don't answer, it's because I'm hard at work, and why are you calling me when I'm on the clock babe? Geez, I know you miss me, but I promise you're still number one."

I fought the immense urge to roll my eyes as I remembered how angry Paul had been. It was hard to love someone and know everything in their life, but be so far away that you feel like you didn't know anything at all.

I stared at my suitcase, biting my lip and gingerly pushing myself off the bed. I moved a book I currently had resting atop of it, and pulled the zipper. It caught slightly, but with a shove I got it to pull and tipped over the contents.

A big yellow folder fell promptly on the floor, labeled with one thing—my name. I could tell Paul had probably scribbled it last minute, even though no one else would claim it for theirs. I don't know why I suddenly felt so anxious, but tore the taped seal and slowly peeked in.

I soon realized that the folder was utterly crammed with paper. I started to pull it out slowly, not looking at anything until I'd gotten everything out of its neglected prison. I closed my eyes for a moment, willing Paul's yelling out of my head before I peered down.

I lifted them up one at a time.

The first few things were brochures. University of Washington. Seattle University. Peninsula College. I noticed that Paul had drawn a red circle around that one, probably because it was in Port Angeles. I flipped open the glossy brochure and smiled at the pictures of the college. One of the panels was a list of Majors, where Paul had drawn a clumsy arrow toward "Art" with a big smiley face.

I pushed aside the brochures to see a few flyers from around town. One was for a local Art class. One was for a discounted Christmas movie night where Paul had circled "Home Alone" and "A Christmas Carol", two of my favorites. Another was an ad looking for a typist, where Paul had written "If the streets don't work out for you."

I almost wanted to stop looking until I spotted a picture of us, my favorite one on Angela's couch. I picked it up tentatively, as if it would suddenly sprout a mouth and begin yelling at me for not knowing what to feel.

Paul looked so happy in the picture I could already feel the ache in my chest to know I'd changed that for him. It was hard to be dependent on someone, even harder to have them depend on you…

I turned it over, unable to keep looking at our happy faces. It wasn't the end of the world, we just got in a fight. But we were living thousands of miles apart, so fights were thousands of times worse. More important. More lonely.

I was about to scoop everything off the floor when I noticed Paul had written on the back of the picture.

_I know we can't compete with NY, but Washington's a cool place. We've got colleges. We've got jobs, and cities, and fun things to do. And you know, we've got me—who's always better with you._

I bit my lip and quickly shoved it back in the envelope.

* * *

I think I had made my decision a long time ago, perhaps even before I left. With everything going on—my mother panicking, Don sick, Paul angry, and lastly, NYU calling to inform me of my "financial situation" it all became silly.

What was keeping me here?

I was so afraid of not having my own future that I ruined my present.

I moved around in a flurry, throwing my math notebook aside, kicking the carpet I tripped over, shoving my clothes into a bag. Thankfully the one Paul had put the envelope in was still packed, so I was already one third done.

I couldn't help but smile even though my room was now completely wrecked. For the first time in months, I didn't have a stab of apprehension in my stomach. It didn't feel like I was letting anyone down. People may not have made such sudden life changes all the time, but they also didn't always do what they felt was right and made them happy…

And I didn't want to be one of those people.

* * *

I used what money I had left over and now watched the windows of the bus, wishing it didn't take as long as it did to get there. Of all the places, I chose the one on the opposite side of the country. Fan-tas-tic.

I had left some of my things in Jay's room so he could send them along later, and I clutched my suitcase to my chest and held my breath. Only a few more hours.

I shut my eyes for a moment, letting everything catch up with me. After days of worry, months of missing my family and Paul, I finally let it all go. Tonight I would be seeing them, and I could think about the rest later, like where I'd stay or what I'd tell my mother.

Right now, I just wanted to be home.

When I woke up, we were almost there. Not wanting to bother my mother, I dialed Paul's number. He'd had time to cool down, and I hoped all would be forgiven once he realized I was coming home.

I bit my lip as I listened to the phone ringing, once, twice, and three times. I frowned as time continued without the presence of Paul's voice, until finally his voicemail clicked on. I hung up, not bothering to leave a message. Was he still angry?

I scrolled through my contacts and hit 'Embry' instead, hoping he was home.

In two rings, I heard his voice, scratchy and heavy, but there.

"Hello?"

"Em?"

"Kris," he said, sounding somewhat nervous. I'd guessed Paul had told him about our fight, or he had seen it in his head.

"Hey, I tried to call Paul, but he didn't answer," I defended, even though he hadn't said anything.

"Yeah, I'd guess…" Embry said, in that drawling, half-afraid way he had when something was wrong.

"What do you mean?" I asked, suddenly feeling nervous. "Is he still mad?"

"He was probably more angry at himself," Embry said. "Still is, if I think about it…"

"Okay," I said lowly. "Because I have news...I'm coming home! And I need him to pick me up."

"I can pick you up," Embry said quickly.

"Why?" I asked, furrowing my eyebrows. "Where's Paul?"

He muttered something intelligible.

"What?" I asked, pressing the phone closer.

"He's kind of insatail," he choked.

"His tail?" I asked, looking around at the people around me and lowering my voice. "Is this a wolf thing?"

"No," he said, sounding frustrated.

"Then what is it? Where is he?" I asked, rubbing my eyes.

I heard Embry sigh before he heaved the words through the phone.

"He's in jail."


	28. Chapter 28

Paul hadn't punched someone who couldn't turn into a wolf since he found out his ability. It wasn't because he hadn't wanted to—because there had been _many _times he did. It was because now punching someone with his fist was like them ramming their own head against the wall.

Only, you know, he was the wall, and there was a lot of blood involved, a few broken tables, and some screaming people.

And last but certainly not least, a pair of handcuffs and some nice iron bars.

At least he didn't transform-although he would've liked to see their faces as they tried to arrest a wolf.

* * *

"Paul."

His mother was a small woman, but had the command of Sam if she wanted to. Her arms were crossed in anger and he almost wished he could hop back in Jared's car and drive far away, but he was already backing out of the driveway with a small, contented wave.

The jerk was getting amusement out of this.

He turned away from the street and lowered his eyes, trying to look sheepish, but it was hard to do when you were this big and had the stench of spending the night with other criminals on your skin.

"Someone is here to see you—and that is the only reason I am not yelling at you now," she said in a dead calm, gesturing to the living room. "But if you think we won't talk later, you have another thing coming."

"Yes ma'am," he said, breathing a slow sigh of relief at dodging that bullet for the time being. He moved past her in a flurry, expecting to see Sam sitting there with a stern expression. Dodging one bullet for another, he guessed. He trampled in slowly, wishing he could just lie down and go to bed, or never raise his head to see the disappointment.

But when he did raise his head, he was glad he did. He thought for a desperate moment that everything was a dream—he hadn't gone out, he hadn't been arrested, and maybe just maybe, she had never left at all.

But his aching back and his mother's nudge forward made him realize it was in fact reality. And suddenly reality wasn't awful. He felt his heart quicken but did his absolute best not to show it, at least not right away, because the best way was to let her be mad as hell, and then calm down enough to hear him out.

"Kris?" he asked tentatively, walking to her chair slowly, despite his every nerve wanting to run.

"Paul," she said flatly, "Or should I say Inmate Number 317?"

"Funny," he said, crouching down in front of her.

He couldn't just talk—not with her in front of him, being angry and beautiful, and most of all just _there_, when he'd waited so long to see her. He leaned forward, not caring about her anger anymore, but just wanting to—

Have his face shoved away by her cold hands.

"No," she said, crossing her arms with fire hot in her eyes.

"I can't kiss you?" he asked with his best innocent eyes.

"No!" she repeated.

"Why not?"

"Because you have jail stench on you," she replied with an edge. "And we still haven't exactly discussed what happened."

"I'll tell you what happened," he said as calmly as possible. "You were in New York, and now you're here, and if things go as I want, soon we'll both be upstairs—"

"Paul!" she exclaimed, her face tinged with red as she cut him off. "You can't ignore what happened!"

"What happened?" he asked dumbly, leaning forward again, wishing she would just _stop talking_, but soon he heard her voice filling his mind again. He ignored it for a moment and rested his face on her neck, her skin cool to his warmth, but getting hotter every moment he lingered there.

"Look at me!" she commanded, pulling his face away and peering into his eyes. "I was worried about you, you stupid ass!"

"I'm fine," he consented, putting his hands on either side of her face. "I promise."

"Did the guy you hit deserve it?" she asked.

"Completely."

"Did you hurt him too bad?"

"What's a broken nose these days?"

"Are they pressing charges?" she asked, her voice now barely above a whisper.

"Not if I pay for everything," he replied, moving forward again.

"Stop!" she said, but he could hear the tremor of a laugh in her voice, and knew it was alright to press on. He met her lips in another second, and was suddenly struck with the realization that he must have fucking superpowers if he'd gone so long without doing this.

She didn't let him enjoy it though, but slowly pushed him back, her eyes half closed and her hair falling out around her ears as she took a deep breath.

"I'm afraid to ask," he admitted, not caring that he was kneeling on the ground and practically in her lap if the answer to his question was yes.

* * *

I watched him for a second, unable to grasp how I'd stayed away for this long. I knew his question—I could see it in his eyes the moment he walked into the room.

Was I home for good?

Of course I was. The minute I met him, I was home.

"New York is great," I said, noticing his face fall just a little. "The pizza is awesome, first of all," I said with a smile. "And the people are driven and sometimes indifferent, which I find refreshing. And I met the coolest kid—you'd like him, I think, but I showed him your picture and I'm pretty sure he'd try to steal you from me," I said with a laugh, thinking of Jay.

"I hope there's a but," he breathed, closing his eyes and keeping his warm hands on my waist.

"_But_ I can't help but feel like my education there was worth going into debt over," I reasoned. "And I want to be close to my mom. And the girls on my floor were such _bitches_."

He smiled widely, pulling me forward with vigor, and kissing me harder than before.

"Hey, I'm not doing this for you," I said, resting my hands on his neck as he rested his forehead against mine.

"That's okay, I found a boyfriend in my cell last night," he said with a smile, kissing me again and again.

"I'll have to kick his ass then," I professed, kissing him myself and embracing the swell of my stomach as a sign of the happiness I should have had all along.

"When will you learn I'm always right?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" I asked, looking at him.

"I told you the day we met—you'd fall in love with me," he said, tracing my lips with his finger. "And look at you know—you can't stay away."

"Not from lack of trying," I joked feebly.

"I have another thing to tell you, you know," he said, the confidence back in his eyes.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yup—that's the last time you'll leave me," he said nodding. "I got you now—you know, us, together, life—the whole nine yards."

"I guess I'm stuck with you," I said, my stomach flipping and my heart pounding.

"Stuck, completely," he whispered. "Now, keep talking to me so I can avoid talking to my mom."

"I have to go Angela's and see if I can stay there," I said, suddenly feeling the weight of everything piling on me.

"You can," he said, suddenly smiling.

"How do you know?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I had lunch with Angela—"

"What?" I asked in surprise, not being able to imagine them together.

"Yeah, we had lunch one day, it was her idea. She said she knew you'd be back—and she made her mom promise you could still stay there."

"Did you think I'd be back?" I asked.

"No," he said.

I looked down, and he clutched my hands and squeezed lightly.

"I knew you would be. But you needed time. I needed a trip to jail, apparently. And now we're here."

I smiled, feeling his warm skin, watching his dark eyes droop, and seeing his lips curve upward into a smile.

"I love here," I sighed.

"It's pretty good for me too."

* * *

**THE END!**

**Thanks to everybody for reading, it's been a fun ride. :)**


	29. Epilogue

Just a little epilogue to my favorite story. :)

* * *

"Um...Dick," I said, smiling in triumph.

"Egghead," Paul said, shrugging his shoulders.

"Weak," I laughed. "Fucktart."

"Weird," he said, smirking at me. "Goon."

"Ho."

"Idiot."

"Jerk."

"What the hell are you two doing?" Embry asked, walking into the room and pausing mid-bite into a sandwich to give us a scowl.

"Thinking of insults in alphabetical order," Paul stated.

"Oh of course, how silly of me to ask," he said, rolling his eyes and plopping into the loveseat.

"Be careful of the furniture, that bad boy is new," Paul chastised, giving Embry a threatening look.

I smiled, squeezing Paul's hand, whose warmth still surprised me, even after a year. He was so protective of everything he had managed to buy for his apartment—including the hunk of orange mess he called a couch. Even he managed to drape himself in napkins when he was inhaling something or other on it.

"Walk with me?" Paul asked, getting to his feet and pulling me up before I could answer.

I followed him down the stairs you had to trek up every time you wanted to get into the front room. They were the ugliest shade of yellow, like sunset blended with vomit, when he moved in but a weekend of tearing and shredding (on the boys part) had uncovered a nice wood that was cool under my bare feet.

"It's getting a little cold, you wanna grab a jacket?" Paul asked before we reached our bright red door.

"I have a heater, thanks," I said, smiling as I grabbed his arm. "It's new—and great. It even makes out with me when I ask."

He smiled, his teeth white and glorious and moving closer before he shut his mouth and pressed his lips against mine. I let out a small breath of air when he lifted me by the waist and pulled me harder to him, but soon lost the surprise and let his warmth and smell drift across and through me.

I'll say one thing—I had grown comfortable with Paul, got used to him in my life, but his kisses still left me dizzy.

When we parted, a minute or two later, my lips were tingling and warm and Paul's eyes were glittering brighter than before.

"I need to stop, or we'll never leave the stairs," he said, grinning and slapping my butt before opening the door.

I rolled my eyes but slipped on the sandals I'd left on the mat and reached behind me, where Paul's hand met mine moments after the sound of the door shutting.

"So what's with the walk?" I asked, heading to the left where the distance between houses began to grow and the forest began to thicken.

"Embry was ruining our moment," Paul said, a small growl in his chest vibrating his throat.

"We were trading insults, it was hardly a moment," I laughed, letting the wind tangle my hair. At least for once it was a breeze—a sign that it was truly Summer.

"Yes, but we didn't finish."

"What were we up to?" I asked, trying to remember.

"K, and I'll go," Paul said, stopping suddenly, causing me to get jerked back momentarily. I rubbed my shoulder and glared at him, but he didn't seem to notice and smiled at me brightly.

"What—you've got one so good we had to stop walking?" I complained, flexing my arm.

"Key," he said, opening his palm and exposing a small object that glittered gold in his coppery hand.

"That's the worst insult I've ever heard," I said, lifting an eyebrow in question.

"It's not an insult. But it does open a door," he said, grinning again. "Namely, mine."

"So..."

"So move in with me. I know you want to get away from your Aunt, and I already asked your mom—she said she expected it, ever since you started going to college in Port Angeles."

"You asked my mom?" I said, feeling my heart constrict and beat faster at the same time. The blood flowed freely in my ears as Paul slid the key into my almost shaking hand.

"Of course. Your turn, L."

"Um," I said, my mind buzzing too much to wonder why we were continuing the game. "Love."

"Perfect," he said, "Not an insult. But neither was mine."

"So, M," I said, barely registering that my mouth was talking. Why were we still doing this stupid game when we were making life decisions?

"I've got the best one," Paul said, and before I knew it, he was on the ground.

My hands were shaking now. I was glad I kept the key in them, with all the sweat and anxiety that was currently controlling their movements. My mind froze in a good way—the way that I imagined this before, but was still surprised that my thoughts could materialize in front of me.

"Marry me?" Paul asked, now producing another gold object, but this one had a diamond and would look a lot better on my hand.

"Double points for double m," I said stupidly, my gaze stuck on the diamond's small rainbows.

"Is that a yes?" he asked, laughing.

I suddenly noticed, with some annoyance, that the obvious whirlwind occurring in my body was not in his. Or, he was doing very well at concealing it, because he seemed supremely sure and not at all frazzled.

"Aren't you supposed to be nervous?" I asked, swallowing a wad of nerves myself.

"Why? I know you'll say yes."

"Oh, do you?" I asked, almost putting my hands on my hips.

"Yes, you fucking love me," he said, puffing out his chest which looked slightly ridiculous since he was on the ground. "Since the moment you laid eyes on me."

"Don't act _so_ sure," I said, crossing my arms.

He got to his feet and slid the ring onto my finger, kissing both my cheeks.

"So the answer is no?" he asked, giving me his best innocent eyes, which made my stomach flip more than I'd like to admit. Why was he so good-looking? It just wasn't fair.

"I'm afraid so," I said, but my attempt at seriousness was thwarted by my big smile.

"Please? I'm pretty sure I really like you," he said, encasing my waist in his arms and pulling me so his head rested atop my own.

"Well...alright. On one condition."

"What's that?" he asked, his voice echoing against my forehead.

"We're getting rid of that hideous orange couch."

"Dealbreaker," he said instantly.

I laughed and pulled away so I could look up at his face.

"Just kidding," he whispered. "Bertha is gone."

"It still concerns me that you named it."

"Chester can be gone too—the wobbly table you always hit. Who needs furniture? I can seduce you on the floor, we can eat on napkins, have picnics every night, use Embry's back for a table—"

"—Alright, I get it, you really wanna marry me, I don't blame you," I said, kissing him lightly. "You know what?"

"What?"

"I knew I'd marry you after our first date."

"I knew it," he exclaimed, punching the air. "The guys owe me so much money."

"Don't get a big head."

"It's hard not to, when the prettiest girl I've ever met is wearing my ring," he said, grabbing my hand and kissing my fingers.

"Should we go back?" I asked, smiling as I saw cars begin to pull up to Paul's—no, our, apartment. It didn't surpise me that Emily would no doubt know about all of this, and probably bake for an army.

"Probably. I'll warn you—they're setting up a party as we speak."

"I wouldn't expect anything less."

* * *

"Well, she said no," Paul told the group of wolves and ladies, his shoulders slumped and deflated. They were all trading looks between us, so I did my best to look somber as they opened and closed their mouths. "But..." Paul drawled, "then she said yes!"

"They are so fucking weird," Jared mumbled, pressing a hand to his forehead as Kim laughed and hugged his side, and the others let out congratulations.

Emily immediately came to hug both of us, and the guys sent thunderous claps across Paul's back. Even Leah gave me a smile. I noticed Ang hovering in the back and dove for her, so happy that they'd included her—I'd been itching to call her and my mom since we walked in the door.

"Now, we have some time, but I want you all to know I will be accepting applications for best man. I tolerate, no, I _encourage_ bribery," Paul announced, thrusting his arms in the air and grinning while I rolled my eyes and laughed.

"And that's my future husband," I whispered to Ang, watching her lips upturn into a smile at the bustle of everyone crowding around Paul.

"I heard that," Paul said, pointing to his ears as a subtle way of telling me he had unnaturally good hearing, but I just smiled in his direction and he forgot about it when Jared talked at his other side.

"Did you know about this?" I asked Ang, giving her a pointed look.

"Maybe," she admitted, shrugging her shoulders in a conspiratorial way. "I do watch a lot of wedding shows—I'll be a qualified advice giver."

"And a great maid of honor," I said, hooking an arm around her shoulder.

"Really?" she said, her voice hitching with excitement. "I'd love to!"

"Of course, who else?" I said, squeezing her shoulder.

Our eyes drifted slowly to Paul who was smiling and talking in almost every direction. His enthusiasm made my own rise and I grinned just watching him babble about something I couldn't even hear. How had I gone through any sort of life and not known him? NYU even seemed distant now—a feat I would never attempt again was to leave La Push behind.

"You know what's funny?" Ang asked.

"What?" I asked, turning to her instead of the crowd.

"I was supposed to go on a trip with my friends the week you came, and my dad was going to teach me how to change a tire in case," Ang said, smirking. "And then you visited, so I passed with them, and never learned."

"And that's how I met Paul."

"I thought you were crazy for dating him," she admitted, bumping my shoulder.

"I still think I'm crazy for it."

"Well, he's keeping you here," Ang said, smiling. "So I'm happy. And you're happy, so I'm happy. Win-win."

"Yup," I agreed.

"Future wife! I'm over here! Future wife!"

"The term is fiancé," I corrected, laughing at Paul's incessant call.

Ang pushed me forward and I blew her a kiss before threading through heavy claps of congratulation to Paul. He grinned and pulled me to his chest, kissing both of my cheeks and my lips once.

"Neanderthal," Paul whispered in my ear.

I was confused for a moment, before a slow drain of comprehension. The game.

"Old slut."

"Prick."

I paused. Q. Q was a rough one.

"Quasi-prostitute?" I asked.

Paul laughed and I noticed Embry was hovering near us. He had a smile on, but it turned into more of a mask of horror as he eavesdropped.

"Well, I'll say one thing," he said, shaking his head. "You two are gonna make it."

* * *

The End! Again. Just thought a little glimpse would be nice. Thanks for reading, as always. I couldn't get the wolves out of my head, so this popped out. I also put up an Embry story, if anyone is interested. Thanks again!


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